Changeover
by leave it or take it
Summary: Ryoma's attitude takes a turn from confident to something much darker. The regulars try to figure out what's wrong...are they succeeding or complicating things further? FujiRyo
1. in which ryoma tells eiji to fuck off

i don't know why this fandom has caught my attention again...

just to clear things up:

this was intended to be fujiryo but started drifting towards atoryo or even tezuryo. any thoughts?

also, ryoma is a third year in middle school, making tezuka/fuji/eiji/etc. sophomores in high school. ryoma is captain of the middle school team.

* * *

Out of all the people in the world, Fuji only associates with one type. Everyone else is not worth his time.

He doesn't need "gifted" people like himself. Fuji often says that he performs well in school because his brain is wired that way. He can fill out tests and do homework with minimal effort.

But other "smart" people are not the same. Fuji watches them. They're often stuck in a pattern: eat, sleep, and study, study, study. Predictability is not one of Fuji's favorite things.

He likes people who are spontaneous, unpredictable, different. The sort of people who have confidence to do what they want, or the ambition to go after it. Fuji finds a lot of these people on the tennis courts. He likes them for their cunning, and their ability to keep him on his toes.

No one is better at this than Echizen Ryoma. It used to be Tezuka - strong, silent Tezuka, who never let anyone know what he was thinking. But Ryoma is on a whole different level. He broadcasts his thoughts loud and clear, evident in the cocky line of his shoulders, the slight swagger in his step. Sometimes he even verbalizes it - mada mada dane, senpai. But somehow, the attitude is never tired or old. Never. Because Echizen Ryoma actually has what it takes to back it up.

From the moment Ryoma entered the courts, Fuji set out to make the freshmen his next project. Project became friend, friend became something more. Fuji hadn't acted on it, not at first. There was something too innocent about him, something that slowly disappeared as the boy finished middle school. Fuji was in his second year of high school, still content to watch and wait.

Two weeks before summer break, the very very beginnings of something happened. Fuji was in the middle of another tedious warm up. Their vice captain in high school was a pale, sniffling senior named Kuroda. Kuroda seemed to be afraid of his own shadow, bugs, twisting his ankle, fire, and the captain, Yamada Taiki.

No one really blamed him for this final shortcoming. Yamada was something of an enigma. The teachers thought him polite and charming, but he showed a different side to his classmates. Practices were run using a combination of manipulation and threats, leaving the team to stumble along to victory. Yamada's ambition rarely stretched farther than words, but there was no doubt he was in a position of power.

But the power came from fear rather than respect, and it was a precarious balance.

It was something of a relief that Yamada stopped showing up to practice in April. Some said it was family trouble, some said he had been suspended. Either way, it was Kuroda's job to fill in as captain. And it wasn't working.

Kuroda liked to have the team warm up every muscle of their body before attempting any "strenuous" activity. If anyone seemed to be perspiring too heavily, Kuroda would immediately stop and have them take a drink. Fuji sighed as Eiji was scolded yet again for a spontaneous cartwheel.

"I did warm up, nya!" Eiji protested.

"What about your wrists? I definitely did not see you do the exercises."

"What are you - "

"Eiji," Fuji said quietly. The red-haired boy caught himself and quickly picked his racket.

"Sorry, Kuroda-fukubuchou. I wasn't trying to cause trouble."

For eight months, the regulars had managed to put up with Yamada, annoying upper classmen and unbearable heat waves. They had gotten to the final stretch, and it wouldn't do for any of them to snap now. They were going to lead the team next year, after all, and there would be Ryoma, too.

"Kuroda-fukubuchou, my stomach hurts," Fuji said suddenly.

Kuroda turned to stare fearfully at the boy. He hated germs with an absolute passion, and there was no reason why the tensai would lie. Or would he?

"I'm sick too," Eiji cut in suddenly, stopping mid-bounce.

A pandemic! He had to isolate them before it spread to the rest of the team!

"Who have you had close contact with?" Kuroda barked.

"Oh...well, Tezuka and I shared a waterbottle this morning...ah, let's see. Taka and I had lunch in close proximity, and then I know I sneezed all over Momoshiro in the hallway."

"Oishi and I kissed this morning," Eiji added excitedly.

"Saa," Fuji said, wondering if it was true. "And Momoshiro sneezed on Kaidoh, too."

"Plus the water bottle that Tezuka and Fuji shared came from Inui."

"Thank you for being so thorough," Kuroda said gravely. Eiji sniggered, but quickly turned it into a cough.

"We'll be getting our medicine," Fuji said serenely, leading Eiji to the gates.

Kuroda looked nervously towards the far court. "Hey! You six! Dismissed!" He frantically flapped his hands at the ex-regulars, and they confusedly filed out of the courts.

***

All of them could tell Fuji was up to something, but they had also learned discretion. No one said a word until they rounded the corner.

"Fuji, what the - "

"Did you see his face when - "

"We really just walked out - "

"Well?" Tezuka said. Everyone fell silent, still mindful of their buchou. Tezuka had been uncomfortable with this at first, considering he was no longer their captain, but he soon learned to accept it.

"It seems I caught a cold," Fuji said, humming absently. He started automatically in the direction of the middle school. Tezuka fell into step beside him.

"And then you told Kuroda this so-called cold is contagious?"

Fuji frowned, putting on his best shocked expression. "Why, Kunimitsu! I would never!"

"A dirty trick, to be sure," Tezuka said, but he was trying not to smile. It had been such a long time since they had played to their full potential.

"I could beat you with my hands behind my back, you stupid mameshi!"

And Kaidoh and Momo obviously needed to blow off some steam. They tore off in the direction of the courts, the rest of the team on their heels.

It was a bit illogicial, maybe, but what better challenge was there than the middle school courts?

***

The "challenge" was currently breaking two of Tezuka's rules. He was sitting down, for one. He was also asleep.

Although, to be fair, Tezuka had never actually made a no-sleeping on the courts rule. He had thought it pretty obvious.

Eiji snatched the cap off the boy's head and tugged a strand of black-green hair. "Nya, Ochibi, you make a bad captain."

"They don't need my help," Ryoma snapped, turning away.

Fuji could see the statement was true. The middle schoolers were practicing their backhands, though the back two courts seemed to be doing volleys. They were not complaining or slacking off, but every so often one of them cast a curious glance towards their captain. For Ryoma to have such a hold over them, even when he was asleep, was impressive.

Eiji frowned and started bouncing a tennis ball a few inches away from Ryoma's head. Ryoma sighed and rolled over again to his other side, reaching behind him to grab the ball as he did so. At least his reflexes were still sharp. "You're not acting like yourself, ochibi," Eiji said. Ryoma lashed out with the tennis ball, narrowly missing Eiji's head. "Just fuck off, Eiji."

Even Tezuka looked shocked at that.

"Echizen!" Oishi said, the first to recover his voice. "Isn't that a little..."

"Oh, excuse me. Fuck off, Eiji-senpai."

The intensity was surprising. Ryoma was usually mellow in between games. Bored, at times. Apart from his usual cockiness, he had never been intentionally rude to his upperclassmen. With Eiji, it had never been more than slight annoyance at his nickname.

"Apologize," Tezuka said.

With that, Ryoma was up on his feet. He still moved smoothly and quickly, but instead of his usual attitude there was something more sinister. The sunlight threw his features into sharp relief; instead of a smirk, his eyes were dark and accusing. The other regulars shifted uncomfortably or looked away, and Fuji stared back at the boy and wondered who it was. Tezuka closed his eyes in what seemed like an apology.

"Not good enough," Ryoma snapped. He spun on his heel and walked away, leaving behind eight completely shocked ex-regulars.

***

Fuji soon realized that his teammates were all staring at him. He looked at Tezuka questioningly, but Tezuka only shuddered and looked away.

"What did he say?" Momoshiro demanded. "You know English, right, Fuji-senpai?"

"Saa...I didn't realize..." Fuji said slowly. "Not good enough...he said 'mada mada dane.'"

Eiji now looked close to tears. "I don't know what happened!"

"Bad day?" Oishi suggested, but no one believed it. They all watched as Ryoma rounded the last corner, presumably headed in the direction of the school gates. One of the seniors - Fuji thought his name was Horio - quickly jogged over.

"Did he tell you anything?" he asked eagerly.

"What do you mean?" Tezuka said sharply. He had been thrown off-balance by Ryoma's behavior, and it showed.

Horio preened under Tezuka's gaze, and Fuji remembered why he had disliked the boy. "He's been acting that way for awhile. I thought...well, I thought it was girl trouble or something."

"Probability: very unlikely," Inui said. There was a pause, as everyone waited for him to elaborate on this statement.

"Data is inconclusive," Inui said apologetically.

"Just say you don't know!" Kaidoh hissed.

A tense silence hung in air, broken by Horio obnoxiously clearing his throat.

"If you need any further information, you can always turn to me, senpai-tachi!"

Tezuka glared at him, and the effect was not immune to the boy. Horio hastily said his goodbyes and left.

"We do need more information," Inui said firmly. "I will set up a schedule of observation, which if planned carefully will not interfere with prac - "

"No," Tezuka cut in. "I will take care of this."

***

After running distractedly through a set drills, the regulars departed the street courts and headed home. Fuji allowed Momo and Kaidoh to run ahead, leaving him and Tezuka alone to further pick apart the problem of Ryoma's behavior.

"Saa...Tezuka. What are you thinking?"

Tezuka frowned and shifted uncomfortably. "As his former captain, it is my duty to see that Echizen resolves his personal problems in a timely manner. If need be I will step in and offer assistance."

Fuji pouted. "Don't say it like that. As his friend, you want to help him, yes?"

A pause. "Of course. But...I'm not sure I know this Echizen."

"I thought you played tennis together on the weekends?"

Tezuka shook his head, looking even more uncomfortable. "I've been so busy with finals...I haven't met up with him since three weeks ago. He seemed fine then."

"Hn."

"Maybe...maybe it's just as Oishi said. He's having a bad day."

"No," Fuji said, eyes showing surprising intensity. "Echizen is quiet, yes. But he has never been so cold before - not to Eiji, not to anyone. And that stupid freshman said his behavior is reoccurring."

"So suddenly?" Tezuka mused. "I just...I'm not sure what to do."

Fuji hesitated. It was rare for Tezuka to show uncertainty, even rarer for Fuji himself to feel so...so helpless. But there did not appear to be an easy solution.

"We will confront him at practice tomorrow. Just the two of us, yes?"

Tezuka agreed, and the two tennis players went their separate ways.

***

Dark hair, a tendency to snap his fingers when irritated, and a hell of an attitude problem...both Fuji and Tezuka were floored to see Atobe Keigo in Seigaku territory. The middle school courts, no less. The Hyotei player was currently tailing Ryoma as he readied the court for practice.

"...who heard from Inui himself," the boy was saying. "So what is it?"

"Che," Ryoma said, busying himself with the nets. "Like I would tell you, Atobe-senpai."

"Atobe-senpai?" the Hyotei player cried. "Is this to rile me up or an attempt to make me lose interest?""Go away.""Ore-sama will not," Atobe said firmly. He turned away and sighed dramatically, then caught sight of two more Seigaku students.

"Tezuka, Fuji," he greeted. "Skipping pratice?"

Ryoma cast a quick glance in their direction before turning back to the nets. He seemed uncaring, but Fuji did not miss the new tension in his posture.

"Our pratice starts in seven minutes," Ryoma said. "Please don't interfere." His voice was flat and expressionless, and he did not meet anyone's eyes before heading to the clubhouse.

"Atobe," Tezuka said coolly. He would have liked to go after Ryoma, and could tell Fuji wanted to do the same, but there was the Hyotei player to deal with.

"Saa...what causes the great Atobe-sama to desert his team?" Fuji said, making his displeasure clear. Atobe was a talented player, and underneath the attitude he a fiercely loyal and strong captain. But he was not Seigaku, and he had no business with Ryoma.

Atobe did not bother to respond to Fuji's jibe. "Ore-sama has heard from a number of sources that Seigaku is in trouble."

"With Kuroda acting as captain we have no expectations of Nationals," Tezuka said stoically.

"I am speaking of the middle school, of course."

"You do not attend Seigaku nor are you in middle school," Fuji said harshly. It was frustrating him that he could not pin down the boy's put a hand on Fuji's shoulder.

"Forgive us," he said mildly. "But we don't see how your presence helps."

"Echizen is an important rival. I would like him to remain as such," Atobe said arrogantly. Fuji relaxed somewhat, sensing that Atobe had genuine respect for Ryoma.

At that moment they were interrupted by an awkward-looking third-year that Fuji thought seemed slightly familiar.

"Aa...gomen-chai, senpai-tachi. But...I am not sure buchou is too pleased to see you..."

Fuji started at the use of the term "buchou", then turned to glance back towards the clubhouse. Echizen was leaning against the fence, a bored expression on his face as he watched his team line up. Eerily perceptive, he caught Fuji's gaze and returned it twice as intense. Their little staring contest was broken as a first-year nervously engaged his captain in conversation.

"Ha!" Atobe sneered. "Just for his insolence, I should stay for the rest of practice." He nonetheless started in the direction of the gates.

It was probably a good idea to leave, although they hadn't accomplished their original purpose. They were attracting a lot of attention. A lot of people recognized Tezuka and Fuji as former regulars and were whispering excitedly..._former captain_ and _nationals_ and _secret love triangles_.

Fuji didn't particularly want to know.

On the other hand, Atobe was being stared at for a combination of his swagger and his uniform. He had the Hyotei crest clearly embroidered on his shirt, but clearly didn't care he was in rival territory. There was a good chance that he was recognized for other reasons; Atobe had made a name for himself in both middle and high school tennis.

Echizen nodded every so slightly as they left the courts, but did not leave his warm up drills.

"Saa...Atobe...he must like you more than he lets on," Fuji said serenely. "I would have thought there would be blood spilled by now."

Tezuka resisted to urge to bury his head in his hands. Sometimes, he swore the tensai riled people up on purpose at the worst possible times just for his own amusement.

He was surprised to hear Atobe laugh.

"Ore-sama is a fine opponent," Atobe said primly.

"You mean you are just as arrogant as him," Fuji mused. "Interesting how he looks up to you."

Atobe took the twisted compliment in stride, apparently somewhat versed in the curious ways of Fuji Syuuske.

"He also looks up to you," Atobe said, a note of warning in his voice. "But if Seigaku cannot handle him, Hyotei or Rikkaidai are more than capable."

Tezuka made a sound that could only be described as a snort. "Only you would make an offer of help seem like an insult."

"Saa...Rikkaidai?"

Atobe shrugged. "Sanada and I have similar views."

They had reached the school gates, and Atobe veered left. "As much as I'd like to discuss things further, my team will be wondering where I am."

"Don't get raped," Fuji said cheerfully. He was quite pleased to see a shocked expression appear on Atobe's face, but then his tone became serious. "And don't do anything...stupid." As in: don't ever, ever make Ryoma upset in anyway or I will hunt you down and kill you.

Atobe managed - just barely - not to shudder. He nodded, then turned his attention to the slightly-less intimidating Seigaku player.

"Tezuka. Next year...you will be captain."

"Is that so?"

"Of course," Atobe said, smirking. "And Hyotei will kick your ass in the finals."

"Hn."

***

yaarrrghh...something fucked with my spacing. sorry if a few words or indents are missing.


	2. in which there is collective insomnia

So this has a bit of filler in it…basically, we're establishing a FujiRyo friendship (eventual romance).

***

Fuji couldn't seem to stop _thinking _that night. When he finally managed to drop off it was past midnight, and he was irritable to find himself awake again at 4:00 a.m. His heart was pounding in a way that meant he would not be going back to sleep. It felt like he had awoken from a bad dream, but he couldn't remember a thing about it.

He finally sighed and threw back his covers, debating whether to call Tezuka and continue their conversation. But what could he say that hadn't already been said?

_I'm worried about Echizen...we should do something about it. _

Ha. Tezuka needed his sleep, anyway. Fuji silently got dressed, then remembered he had school and repeated the process. As he fixed he tie, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. There was nothing wrong with his uniform, but somehow he looked...uncomfortable.

_I'm turning into Monkey King _Fuji thought wryly, turning away from his reflection.

He busied himself with a history assignment he hadn't bothered with, and finished it within a couple minutes. He then proceeded to organize his backpack, his room, water his plants, download the pictures off his camera, and check the time.

5:13 a.m.

Fuji sighed and turned his attention to his tennis bag. Besides his two raquets, it contained an inordinate amount of crap. It was habit for most of the regulars to stick things in the side pockets, mainly because they were too tired or deal with them.

Seven extra tennis balls...he didn't need that many, really...a practice schedule from last year...a few love declarations...oh...that's where his English assignment had gotten too. And his racquets. They could stay where they were...wait.

There was a note stuck into the netting of his practice racquet, and Fuji assumed it was from another secret admirer- an intelligent one, at least, for putting it somewhere he would actually see it. But it addressed him as Fuji-senpai. His admirers usually added a more romantic suffix, not to mention their annoying fondness for using his given name.

_Rematch, Thursday after practice, middle school courts. _

_Echizen, _Fuji thought, smiling slightly. The boy had never been in his classes, but Fuji remembered the narrow handwriting from the scoreboards (usually _Echizen Ryoma - 6-0_). And from the cautionary notes that Ryoma put on his bento while he left to buy his Ponta (_Don't even think about it, Eiji-senpai)._

A rematch. Fuji immediately flashed back to the last time they had played, nearly two years earlier. It had ended with rain and frustration, but it had nonetheless been a thrilling game. Apparently Echizen also felt cheated by the outcome.

Feeling slightly happier, Fuji gathered up his school bag and headed for the door.

***

A mile away, Ryoma stared restlessly at the ceiling. He had been exhausted the past three days - too exhausted to sleep, if that made any sense. He didn't know if the lingering fatigue was from the hospital, the flight back, or another source of stress.

Definitely not from tennis. He hadn't done anything very strenuous on the courts the past few days.

He suddenly remembered his match with Fuji that afternoon, and felt another wave of exhaustion sweep through him. It would be next to impossible to convince Fuji nothing was wrong. Momoshiro...Tezuka, even...he could have gotten away with it.

But Fuji? The tensai was perceptive in ways that were somewhat comforting and somewhat terrifying.

Ryoma kicked off his blankets and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to figure himself out.

Why had he asked Fuji for a rematch?

It had been a split-second decision, made when Tezuka and Fuji had been arguing with Atobe. Ryoma had been a little freaked out by it, especially because they had been talking about him.

But seeing Fuji on the courts had been somehow comforting. Tezuka and him still played on the weekend, but he saw Fuji only on occasion. They hadn't played a serious match since the one two years ago. He had wondered if Fuji had any more counters, and then scrawled out a request for a rematch.

It wasn't as if they never spent time together. He figured that out of all the regulars, his relationship with Fuji had the least to do with tennis. It was odd, because Fuji was the one he most enjoyed playing.

But there was some sort of respect he had for the other boy that had nothing to do with the courts. He was perfectly fine putting up with Fuji's photography exhibitions (he had to admit, Fuji was very good), talking about possible career choices (tennis wasn't everything, after all), or listening to Fuji threaten the high school captain Yamada (Fuji's sadistic side was still very sharp). He was even alright with Fuji causing a scene by showing up outside his science class and dragging Ryoma to eat lunch.

Ryoma stood up and wished for the millionth time he was in high school with everyone else. It would have made everything so much easier. As it were, he had now been backed into three separate corners. His teachers had begun to notice his slip ups, Ryuzaki-sensei and his middle school team were starting to question him, and of course he had his senpai to answer to.

It was best, he decided, to tell someone. And that person would be Fuji-senpai, because the boy was clever, more approachable than Tezuka, and not prone to hitting or glomping him (Momo and Eiji, respectively).

He had just finished justifying it to himself when his alarm went off. 5:30 a.m.

"Baka oyaji," he muttered, grabbing his tennis and school bags. As long as he was awake...

***

Ryoma was sure he was dreaming once he got to school. It was still dark out, but the figure on the courts was familiar enough that Ryoma could tell immediately who it was.

Once he ascertained that he wasn't dreaming - Fuji just had a strange, creepy habit of turning up when needed - Ryoma groaned and turned to the clubhouse. Just because he respected the older boy did mean he felt like dealing with him so early in the morning.

"Fuji-senpai," he said, sensing the other boy approaching. "I said after school."

"Saa...I needed clarification."

"Che," Ryoma muttered, unlocking the clubhouse. "I don't feel like playing right now."

Fuji frowned. It was true Echizen was not as reckless as he had been in previous years, but the sentence still sounded wrong coming out of his mouth.

"You are afraid of losing."

Ryoma frowned, biting back an irritable retort. "I don't lose," he finally said.

"What if l show you my counters?"

Ryoma was now unpacking his bag, but paused to glare at his senpai.

"So suspicious, Echizen."

"You want something."

Fuji paused, surprised that Echizen could see through his teasing. Was he getting easier to read, or did Echizen know him that well? He decided to match his kouhai's bluntness, hoping he was getting somewhere.

"Every time you fail to return a counter, I will ask you a question."

"Not fair," Ryoma said immediately. "It will take me at least three tries to break your new ones."

"Only three?" Fuji teased. "Saa...how about one question for every three tries?"

"Only if I can ask you a question in return."

"You drive a hard bargain," Fuji said, surprised Ryoma had added that part of the deal. What did he think Fuji was hiding?

"I expect you to be honest."

"And you," Fuji shot back. "Rough or smooth?"

***

Higuma Otoshi was first.

"Don't patronize me," Echizen said, easily adjusting his playing style. The rally continued for a minute longer, both of them getting their muscles warmed up. Then, Fuji introduced Kagerou Zutsumi, which Echizen didn't even try to hit. He narrowed his eyes as he took in Fuji's stance, and followed the ball until it dropped a few yards in front of him.

"You're just taking away the spin," he said, the second time.

The third time, he returned it.

"Perception as good as ever, Echizen."

Ryoma recognized Houou Gaeshi as a form Tsubame Gaeshi, but Fuji hit it harder than he expected. It reached the ground before he could get to it, making it his third failed attempt.

"Are you sick, Echizen?"

"No. Just tired."

"Why?"

Ryoma frowned. "That's your second question, Fuji-senpai. Will you play tennis next year?"

"Yes," Fuji said immediately. "Why wouldn't I?"

Ryoma shrugged and returned to his baseline. He missed the next two Houou Gaeshi, and the rally went on for a few minutes before Fuji hit it a third time. Ryoma went for it and got a dropshot back over, but Fuji immediately used a modified version of Higuma Otoshi. The ball went over Echizen's head. Tezuka might have gotten it, but Ryoma was still lacking the height department.

Ryoma seemed to realize this and scowled, but he stuck to their agreement and didn't serve.

"Will you play tennis next year?" Fuji asked.

"Yes," Ryoma said, a little too carefully. "How many counters do you have?"

"Eleven."

Fuji attacked with Kagerou Zutsumi, hitting hard and fast to opposite sides of the court. Ryoma only missed one. Then missed Kirin Otoshi twice, and Fuji had a sudden thought.

"Echizen, do you really want to be playing right now?"

Ryoma looked miserable as he realized the answer. "Not really."

Fuji caught the ball and lowered his racquet. "Then we don't have to."

They walked back in silence to the clubhouse. Fuji leaned up against his old locker, feeling somewhat nostalgic. He wished Ryoma had graduated with them. It would have made things a lot easier.

"I don't like you spoonfeeding me your counters," Ryoma said, a trace of his old arrogance reappearing. "I'd rather figure them out on my own."

Fuji smiled. "Let's play a real match, then. When you're feeling better."

"I'm sorry, Fuji-senpai," Ryoma said immediately. He ducked down and dropped his racquet into his bag. "It's just not a good time."

"We don't have to play tennis," Fuji said gently. "We can just talk. Have you had breakfast yet?"

Ryoma looked up at the older boy, slightly apprehensive.

"Echizen, we don't even have to talk. Just come with me."

***

After trying two or three other restaurants, they managed to find a small fusion cafe that opened at 6:00 a.m.

"Two please," Fuji said, flashing the waitress his most charming smile. She blushed prettily and led them to a table near the window.

"Ne...Fuji-senpai," Ryoma said, watching her go. "Are you and Tezuka dating?"

Fuji very nearly choked in his water. "Who told you that?"

Ryoma shrugged. "Is it true then?"

"We're not dating," Fuji said absently. The idea wasn't entirely far fetched, and yet...."Tezuka and I would bore each other, don't you think?"

"Mada mada dane."

"Are you transferring to another school, Echizen?"

Ryoma turned his gaze to the window, and Fuji felt strangely unsettled as he realized it might be true.

"You asked me a question, you know. It's only fair I get one in return."

"I'm not sure," Ryoma said finally, figuring he owed his senpai a decent answer. "I might be...I might be going back to America."

Fuji somehow knew he was the first person Ryoma had told, and so he made a concentrated effort to stay calm.

"I'll still play tennis," Ryoma said quietly. "Just...just not for Seigaku."

Fuji tried to imagine the team without Ryoma. Yes, it had been that way for two years, but they had made it that far with thoughts that their third year would be different. Tezuka as captain...and Ryoma finally reaching high school.

"It would be different," Fuji finally said.

Ryoma still looked uncomfortable, and Fuji realized he had something else to say.

"If that happened, do you think...Tezuka would be mad at me?"

"No," Fuji said firmly. "He would be surprised, and he might not show it very clearly, but he would miss you. We would all miss you. Kaidoh might even cry."

Ryoma stared incredulously at his senpai, wondering if he was serious. Fuji only smiled back serenely, making it impossible to tell for sure.

"He would cry like a baby, Echizen. I'll take pictures for you, don't worry."

"It might not happen," Ryoma reminded him.

"Of course."

***

"Fujiko's gone, nya!" Eiji wailed. It was 6:30, and although none of the ex-regulars officially had morning practice, everyone showed up according to the (unofficial) schedule. Fuji and Tezuka were usually the first ones.

Tezuka looked up from his clipboard, realizing that the tensai was, in fact, missing. He was slightly unsettled by the prospect.

"Probability of Fuji sleeping in: 1%," Inui said.

This did nothing to reassure Tezuka.

"Fujiko never sleeps," Eiji agreed. "Except during English."

"Probability of Fuji being sick: 4%."

Tezuka closed his eyes and sighed. This was also not helpful.

"Probability of Fuji being with Echizen: 95%."

Eiji stopped bouncing, a worried expression on his facce. "Ohhh, I hope Ochibi is okay."

"He's always been a brat," Kaidoh said, harsher than normal. This might have been Kaidoh's twisted way of showing concern, but Momoshiro didn't know the difference.

"What did you say, you stupid snake?!"

Things, as they normally did, degenerated from there.

"Alright," Tezuka said, abruptly standing up. "Twenty laps, everyone."

_Syuuske, please don't screw this up. _

***

"Saa...at least you aren't going to Hyotei," Fuji said.

"With Atobe-senpai? We wouldn't last a day with each other."

"He worries about you," Fuji said seriously. "As you can infer from his little visit yesterday."

"Oh, I thought that was Monkey King being an asshole and interrupting my practice," Ryoma said snarkily.

Fuji laughed. "I hope we didn't cause too much trouble."

"You and Tezuka, at least, seem to be an inspiration. But ugh...my freshmen would not shut up about how evil he is."

They got the check then, Fuji paying despite Ryoma's protests.

"I'm not a _girl_, Fuji-senpai."

"You certainly act they way around Momo and Eiji," Fuji said, laughing. "Eiji says he could have bought a car with the amount of money he spends on you two."

"Momo-senpai says he's supposed to, being our senpai and all."

"And I, also being your senpai, have no problems doing the same thing." They stood up to leave, Echizen still muttering that if Eiji-senpai didn't glomp him so often he wouldn't have needed compensation.

"Fuji-senpai...doesn't your practice start at 6:30?"

Fuji noted, belatedly, that he was ten minutes late. "It's my day off."

Ryoma sighed, slightly embarrassed by nonetheless happy that his senpai had skipped practice form him. It had been nice. Much nicer than sitting around at home, wondering if his family was doing alright without him.

"You should go. They're probably worried about you."

"They're worried about you, too.

"Hn," Ryoma said. "Tell them...tell Eiji-senpai I'm sorry. And everyone else."

"You should tell them yourself."

Ryoma ignored him. "And tell them I'm fine, alright?"

They parted ways, Fuji wondering whether it was true.

***

Fuji had just barely put down his bag when Eiji barged on him, closely followed by Oishi, Momoshiro and Taka. Inui and Tezuka followed at a slightly less frantic speed. Kaidoh brought up the rear, putting a lot of effort into pretending he didn't care.

"Sorry," Fuji said cheerfully. "Forgot we had practice."

"Nya, don't play around!" Eiji yelled, bounding forward. "Buchou says it's alright, now you can tell us what you found out, pleasepleaseplease!"

"We played a little tennis," Fuji said, contemplatively taking his racket back out. "He says he sorry and that he's fine."

"You played?" Tezuka cut in, surprise evident in his voice.

"Not a full match. It was nothing like last time. Echizen seemed...tired."

"But that's not normal Ochibi behavior!" Eiji cried.

Oishi stepped forward and put a hand on Eiji's shoulder, but he looked just as worried. "Ryuzaki-sensei said it might be a family emergency."

Fuji shrugged, and briefly met Tezuka's eyes.

"There is something troubling him...although I am not sure he told me the whole truth."

***

Super mushy angst next chapter…yes?


	3. in which ryoma goes to america

here we go...

***

On Friday, Ryoma woke up well-rested and happy. Happier, at least, than he had been in the last few months. He took his time showering and getting dressed, but as he was eating breakfast his good mood vanished.

Yesterday, he had been eating with Fuji. It had seemed natural at the time, but now he wondered why Fuji had put up with him. Ryoma had basically cheated him out of a decent game and made him pay for breakfast, which in turn meant Fuji was late for practice. He hadn't remembered his senpai being so...selfless.

Doubtless Tezuka had put him up to it. Of course Tezuka wanted him to be successful as captain - as the "Pillar of Seigaku" or something like that.

He was moping over this new conclusion (and the fact he was eating alone), when the phone rang.

"Echizen residence."

"**Ryoma**," his mother said, sounding very exhausted and very far away. "**Are you doing alright**?"

"I'm in Japan," Ryoma snapped. "Don't talk in English." He pushed back his chair and stood up, somehow not hungry anymore.

"Of course," his mother said. "I'm so sorry - I thought at least one of us would fly back yesterday, but there was some problem with the blood work. The surgery won't be until tomorrow."

"How is Nanako?"

"**Tired. She really wants to get the surgery over with. She's a bit mad at us for leaving you alone.**_"_

Ryoma sighed and decided he could drop the whole language issue. It's not like anyone was there to make fun of him, and he knew his mother was stressed out.

"**I'm fourteen, Mom. Besides, it's already been a month."**

**"That long?" **his mom said, but she didn't sound surprised. Just sad. "**Nanako asked one of her friends from the University to check in on you. Just to make sure everything's alright."**

Ryoma didn't answer, wondering if this meant they would be gone another week.

"**You can even stay with them if you want. I believe her name is Yumi - she's very nice. And she has two little brothers - oh, was that the doorbell?"**

**"It's probably just someone with a get-well card. Should I send them on or will you be back soon?" **He tried not to sound too eager.

"**If you're not too busy," **his mom said. She said something else, but Ryoma couldn't make it out through the static. **"And you can write something to Nanako - she misses you very much."**

The doorbell now rang multiple times, and Ryoma crossed over and yanked the door open. He tried not to let his anxiety show as he waved the older boy in.

"**It's only Momo-senpai. It's 7:00 over here and I gotta get to school. Please wish onee-chan good luck and...and tell Dad I miss him. But not too much. And come back soon."**

**"Ryoma, I'm so sorry."**

"Mada mada dane," he said, knowing it would make her feel better. It didn't make _him_ feel any better. He hung up the phone and went back to his breakfast.

"E-Echizen!"

"Don't act stupid, Momo-senpai," Ryoma said, moving his dishes to the sink. He was running late because of the phone call, and he didn't want to give Ryuzaki-sensei anymore reasons to worry.

Momo laughed nervously. "But you speak so quickly! You should be in my English class, or even Fuji-senpai's. He talks just as fast as you."

"Hn. Why are you here?"

"Can't I pick up my kouhai for school?"

"You can, but not when you have to go in the opposite direction. Did Tezuka-buchou ask you to check on me?"

"Wha...what?" Momo stammered, looking highly offended. "I came here because I was worried about you! It's not like you to be so mean to Eiji-senpai."

Ryoma shifted uncomfortably as he locked the door. "Sorry."

Momo looked slightly mollified. "Tell that to Eiji-senpai. He's miserable. And stop assuming that we only do things because Tezuka-buchou asks us too!"

Echizen hopped onto the back of Momo's bike, wavering a little as he adjusted his tennis bag. It had been awhile.

"Fuji-senpai treated me to breakfast," he told his friend. "He wouldn't do that unless buchou asked him - "

"Not true! Buchou made him run laps for skipping."

Ryoma fell silent, wondering...

"Echizen, a friend is still a friend even when you are having an off-day." He tactfully didn't say "off-month" even though he knew Echizen's behavior had been going on for about as long.

"Maybe."

***

Despite Horio's repeated pokes, Ryoma paid even less attention to his teachers than usual. In English he spent more time thinking about Eiji than conjugating verbs. In math he wondered whether Fuji put up with him for sadistic purposes or something else. In science he wondered what that something else could be.

And then, during history, Ryoma flashed back to Eiji's hurt expression. For the hundredth time he wished he had not been so harsh with his words. But he had been stressed, and had only just returned from America - where people were far more likely to lash out and say what they felt.

Ryoma knew he should be explaining himself to Eiji, but there was something that made him hesitate. He could not offer a true apology without going into the reason why he was so upset - and that, he was still unwilling to share. He had not even managed to tell Fuji, although he had gotten close.

But still, he had to make some sort of an effort. With five minutes until lunch, Ryoma gave up on his history notes and wrote down something more important.

***

Kaidoh enjoyed lunch, and he especially enjoyed it alone. It was a time for him to relax, organize his thoughts, and prepare for a second round of classes. He had gotten quite good at tuning out the antics of the high school cafeteria...

...though, apparently not good enough. What was the brat doing here?

He quickly composed himself and then stood up to confirm...yes, it was none other than Ryoma Echizen who had just wandered into the high school cafeteria. Wearing the middle school uniform, no less. Didn't he any sense of self-preservation?

And he could have at least _pretended_ to respect his senpai. One of the seniors stepped forward to question his purpose there, and Ryoma had apparently ignored him. Idiot.

But just as the senior lunged for Echizen...Kaidoh stood up decided that just this once, he could cut Echizen some slack. He was quick enough to grab the senior and haul him off Echizen before any real damage was done.

"Fsshhh..."

Apparently, his anti-freshmen glare also worked on the seniors.

"Aaa...Kaidoh-senpai," Echizen said, bowing slightly. "Arigatou."

"I did it for Tezuka-buchou," Kaidoh growled. Inwardly, he was pleased to see that Echizen was still capable of respect.

A flash of amusement, gone just as quick. "Have you seen Eiji-senpai?"

"Rooftop," Kaidoh said shortly. "Don't be stupid on the way there."

***

If Ryoma had known his friends were going to react this way, he would have brought a camera. As it were, he couldn't help smirking a little when he straightened up from his bow.

After the initial shock, Inui dove for his notebook and Oishi and Taka both stuttered something unintelligible. Even Tezuka looked startled. Fuji seemed more amused than shocked. Eiji bounded forward happily, but then stopped, uncertain.

"Eiji-senpai, I'm - "

Apparently Eiji had seen something in Ryoma's expression, for a split second later Ryoma found himself staggering under an enthusiastic hug.

"Ochibi! I was so worried, nya! But it makes me so happy to see you!"

Eiji squeezed him tightly and let him go, and Ryoma stopped caring about who saw his smile. He felt so much more relaxed_, _even though he hadn't explained himself_. _

"It's good to see you, Echizen," Oishi said. "But aren't you supposed to be in school?"

Eiji slung an arm around Ryoma's shoulders, pouting. "He is in school! With us!"

"Saa...it's fine," Fuji said softly. "We hardly get to see you, ne, Echizen?"

Ryoma met the tensai's eyes carefully, still wary of his motives. Fuji seemed to realize this and frowned. He looked hurt, but Ryoma still couldn't be sure.

"There is a 90% chance you walked here. There is a 95% chance you got in trouble on the way." Inui looked at Ryoma for confirmation.

"Yes, I walked. I didn't get in trouble."

"Really?"

"Hn. Kaidoh-senpai...helped."

Inui scribbled something on his notebook, and Oishi now looked more worried than ever. Ryoma ignored him and turned to his former captain. Tezuka had gotten over his shock, and actually showed signs of being happy to see him.

"Will you come to Nationals, buchou?"

Tezuka nodded. "It will be a good opportunity to see what you've accomplished."

"He means to say 'I'm proud of you'," Eiji translated. "We will all come and watch! Even with me and Oishii gone, I hear the doubles team is still strong."

They talked for a few minutes longer the conversation eventually turning to the best classes to take in high school. Ryoma couldn't bring himself to mention he might be transferring. He was afraid Fuji would bring it up for him, but the tensai was strangely silent.

"Echizen, as much as I hate to say this, you really should be going," Oishi broke in.

"I'll walk you downstairs," Fuji offered.

Ryoma was about to refuse, but thought better of it. He knew his other senpai would want to know the reason, and he didn't know how to justify it. _Fuji-senpai...scares me? I don't understand him?_

As if. He said his goodbyes and, slightly apprehensively, followed Fuji to the stairwell. He trailed behind the older boy for awhile, wondering whether he should try to explain...

And quite suddenly, Ryoma felt someone grab his wrist and sharply pull him into a side hallway. He looked up at Fuji's face, startled to find his eyes wide open and dark.

"Did I do something to upset you?"

Ryoma shuddered and tried to pull away, but Fuji only tightened his grip. Ryoma was loathe to admit it, but in a battle of strength, Fuji might just have the edge. He stopped resisting and forced himself to look Fuji in the eye.

"Maybe."

"You seem fine with everyone else," Fuji said, and this time there was no mistaking the hurt in his voice. "I don't understand."

"Are you playing with me?"

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and yet there were a hundred more behind them, needing to be said.

"I don't understand why you would spend time with me," Ryoma said. "The way I see it, Taka is a much better friend. Oishi and you have lots of classes together, and he gets top grades same as you."

"Echizen - "

"Let me finish. Eiji is more fun to spend time with. He is more open and more friendly than I could ever be. Tezuka can match your skills in tennis, and it would be more convenient to play him. He doesn't force you to show him your counters, either. And - "

Fuji grabbed Ryoma by the shoulders and shoved him back against the wall, and Ryoma was so shocked he swallowed his next words.

"I would never, ever, do anything to hurt you," Fuji said, willing the other boy to understand. "You are a better friend to me than anyone. You are just as intelligent, on and off the courts, as Oishi or Eiji or Taka. If you asked me for match every single day for a year, I would never refuse. I would never get bored. Tezuka is a strong player, yes, but he is not you."

A pause, and Ryoma met Fuji's eyes squarely.

_If you asked me for match every single day for a year, I would never refuse. I would never get bored. _

There was truth in that statement, for both of them.

"Thank you, Fuji-senpai," he said quietly.

Fuji let him go and smiled, heading for the stairs as though nothing had happened.

"And, as I recall, you've only truly broken three of my counters. I'm not in the least bit worried. Mada mada dane, Echizen."

"...same to you, Fuji-senpai."

***

As Ryuzaki-sensei anxiously hurried across the courts, Ryoma's heart sank. Even though the middle schoolers weren't allowed to leave the campus, he hadn't thought anyone would notice.

"Ryoma! Please come to my office!"

And he really couldn't get in trouble right now. They would undoubtedly need to contact his parents, and that was something nobody needed to mess with...

To his suprise, Ryuzaki pointed to the phone and then left. Ryoma tried not to let his relief show as he cautiously picked it up.

"Moshi moshi?"

"**Ryoma! I apologize for calling dur - "**

**"Mom! Did something happen?"**

**"No, no, everything is fine. Nothing bad. It's just...well, Nanako's platelet count is still too low. And they are very low on O negative donors."**

Ryoma bit back his reply. He didn't want to go...not so soon, not ever. But he knew his family needed him.

**"You don't have to go if you don't want to."**

_It's just that if you don't, your cousin might die. _

**"I'll get on the next flight. Should I pack anything for the weekend?"**

"**Ryoma, we miss you so very much. But your finals are so soon and we don't want you to miss out on your studying time."**

_We don't want to take care of you, too. Just stay home and take care of the house. _

He would not cry about this. He would not be selfish. If everything worked out, he would be home by tomorrow night.

**"I'll see you soon."**

**"I love you, Ryoma."**

**"Love you too. Tell Nanako to hang in there."**

He almost ran into Ryuzaki-sensei in the hallway, and immediately ducked his head. If Ryuzaki was surprised by this uncharacteristic show of respect, she said nothing. When Ryoma had composed himself he straightened up and mentally organized his schedule. There was no practice on Fridays, so he did not have to mention anything about his departure.

"Everything is fine," he said calmly. He had gotten so good at lying the past few months. "I'll be here for Monday's practice."

"Hm. Have you talked to the old crowd lately? I know they were looking for you."

Ryoma inwardly rolled his eyes. Ryuzaki was really obvious, sometimes.

"Yes, sensei, I had lunch with them...er...I had dinner with them yesterday."

She smiled in a half-relieved, half-knowing sort of way, and then let him go. He almost wished she hadn't.

***

Atobe had actually listened to the first half of Shishido's rant, but by the third stop his focus had completely vanished.

It wasn't the chatter of the commuters (honestly, they could have been a little more considerate when whipping out their cell phones) or the grunge of the subway car (which probably hadn't been cleaned in weeks and was really and truly _disgusting). _Okay. So there were a thousand other insignificant things that were pissing him off.

But what truly caught his attention was the small, dark-haired boy curled up near the end of the compartment. His cap was pulled down low over his face and he was not dressed in blue and white, but his identity was unmistakable. Seigaku Middle School's captain, Echizen Ryoma, was currently sleeping his way through eastbound route number 3.

Atobe's initial instinct was to go over and demand an explanation, but he knew Ryoma would not be forthcoming. Especially when the other Hyotei players realized who it was, and started asking their own questions. Put simply, it would be chaos.

Instead, he remained sitting as the train reached its fourth stop. The rest of his team piled off, preparing for the 10 km run back to Hyotei.

"Oi, Atobe, aren't you coming?"

Atobe quickly refocused on his team. "Ore-sama needs more of a workout. I will be waiting until the fifth stop."

"Are you kidding, Atobe? That's suicidal!"

Atobe shrugged, inwardly dreading the extra 7 km. But some things were more important.

***

"Training without your team, brat?"

Ryoma groaned as he realized who it was. This was his last chance to sleep for the next twenty-something hours, and he did not need Atobe ruining it for him.

But then again, he did not need Atobe running to Tezuka and starting up a gossip circle. Reluctantly, Ryoma opened his eyes and prepared to cut down Atobe's suspicions.

"Monkey King. Also training without your team?"

Atobe didn't answer, instead looking pointedly at Ryoma's tennis bag. With a change of clothes, some get-well cards, and his passport, it looked oddly misshapen.

Stupid observant Monkey King. He picked up the bag and set it on his lap, not willing to take any chances.

"Have you talked to your captain? Or that annoying friend of his?"

"You mean Tezuka-buchou or Fuji-senpai? Hn."

Ryoma tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He could get to sleep once Atobe got off, which had to be soon.

"So they would know why you're going to airport on a Friday afternoon?"

With that, Ryoma's eyes flew open, and he turned to meet Atobe's satisfied expression. Fucking stupid Monkey King.

"It's the only likely destination on this route. Unless you plan to run the 30 km back to Seigaku. In which case I would settle for your company."

Ryoma wanted to punch that smirk right off Atobe's face, but he didn't need anymore trouble right now. He settled for a diplomatic approach instead.

"Please, don't tell them."

And here he sounded pathetic, anxious and pleading all at once. Even Atobe looked surprised at his tone.

"Why don't you tell Fuji?"

"I don't want anyone to know."

A pause, and Ryoma thought of all the ways he could persuade Atobe not to tell. He had nothing, though. No threats, no blackmail. He was screwed.

"Hm," Atobe said thoughtfully. "Why is taking a vacation a weakness?"

"_Because_, damn it, it's not a vacation," Ryoma snapped. Like he would schedule a vacation so close to Nationals? "It's a fucking nine hour flight, then the flight back right after, and I spend most of my time in the fucking _airport_, anyway. Stupid security and people wanting to know where my parents are...oh, and assuming I don't speak English? The _hell_?"

"Sounds like you've done this before."

"Only a thousand times," he snapped, then flushed. Stupid manipulative Monkey King.

Atobe was looking at him calculatingly, and Ryoma really couldn't stand much more of this. Shouldn't he have left at the last stop, anyway?

"You going to run back 40 km now?"

Atobe smirked slightly and stood up to leave, apparently realizing he would get no more out of his dark-haired companion. Ryoma watched him go, wondering if the boy cared enough to go to Tezuka. Or to Fuji.

"Atobe-senpai!"

Atobe turned, and Ryoma shouted to make his words heard over the creek of the subway.

"Please don't tell! Please!"

And maybe it was because respected the boy, because he wanted those gold eyes to look a little less worried. Whatever the reason, Atobe said the words.

"I promise."

And Ryoma was gone.

***

kekekekekeke.....there is one tiny hint as to what will happen later. did anyone catch it? it's in one of the phonecalls.

see you soon!


	4. in which fuji quits the tennis team

so...

**this is english. **

_this is writing, phone calls, etc. _

_but you guys are clever and probably can figure that out. _

also, this chaper is dedicated to fujikyouya. i would say the same types of things about the reviewers, actually...but you made my day!

and a bit of clarification: in this fic ryoma has o - blood type, and so does his sick cousin (yeah that would be nanako). people with o - blood are kind of screwed because they can only recieve blood from o - donors...which are rare. it's pretty complicated...google "donate blood" or something along those lines if you want to know more. you can donate to someone specifically in real life (in america at least) but not to the extent i'm making ryoma donate...um...let's just pretend rinko's lawyer-status made it possible.

one more note: i don't know how anything works in japan, but if it fits my story i put it in there. sorry for any confusion.

kthx bye!

* * *

Warm up, warm up, warm up!" Kuroda screamed out. "Don't try anything before you're warmed up!"

Apparently he had heard the impact of Momo's bullet serve. The power player sheepishly apologized, put down his racket and continued stretching.

"Next time I'll serve it to his face," Momoshiro muttered, soon as the vice captain was out of earshot. "Maybe Echizen can give me some pointers."

"Secondary sources suggest Echizen's Twist Serve has increased in accuracy," Inui said. "I should have asked him to demonstrate it at lunch today."

Momoshiro stopped stretching and looked incredulously at his senpai. "He was here?!"

"Yes, and he looked much happier," Oishi said. "It will be nice having him with us next year."

"I can't believe I missed him," Momoshiro said, groaning. "I should have made up the health test another day."

"Fssssh. If you got your work done on time, you wouldn't have this problem."

The argument was halted as Eiji jogged back to the group, a frustrated expression on his face. Tezuka followed, looking slightly more serious than usual, and Fuji brought up the rear.

"I'd like to poke out his eyes with my racket," Fuji said immediately. He was smiling, but there was no humor in the expression. "And as for Yamada - "

"Fuji," Tezuka said, a note of warning in his voice.

"Tezuka, you could make me run 1,000 laps and it wouldn't change anything."

The rest of the regulars waited nervously, but Tezuka only sighed and started stretching. Fuji joined him, appearing to calm down.

"Is there a problem?" Oishi asked anxiously.

"Yes!" Eiji cried, before either Tezuka or Fuji could answer. "Kuroda will not sign up for any more tournaments. He says we need to focus on our studies."

There was a pause, as everyone tried to understand the reasoning.

"Well, we only have a week left," Oishi said soothingly. "And the new captain is announced on Thursday."

"Good," Fuji said shortly. "If we had any longer, I'd think I'd snap."

Eiji shuddered. "Fujiko, stop being so scary! Wanna play a match?"

Fuji agreed, and Eiji went for his tennis bag, not caring if Kuroda saw. They needed some serious stress-relief, and no snot-nosed vice captain would get in the way.

***

Eiji spent a moment simply admiring the sight of his racket. Practice had become a bit of a joke lately, and he didn't get to use it very often. It took him a full minute to get over his excitement, but once he had, he realized there was a note attached to the strings. He pulled it off curiously, trying to place the handwriting. Fuji was watching him, a strange expression on his face.

"Who's it from?"

He flipped the note open and scanned for a name.

"Ochibi-chan," he said curiously. "Huh."

He kept scanning...and scanning...and then he actually tried to _read _it, before realizing what the problem was. Ugh, he really did lose brain function at tennis practice.

The note was written half in English, half in Japanese. Eiji could read part of the first paragraph, but then it started switching between the two languages. English was never his best subject, and this was really giving him a headache. He frowned, trying to think of ways to get to the computer lab. Maybe he could tell Kuroda he was looking up warm up routines?

"Fujiko!" he said excitedly, suddenly realizing who had the top grade in his English class. "You're good at English!"

Then Eiji flushed, realizing he'd said it loud enough to catch the attention of the other regulars. Across the court, Fuji stopped playing with a tennis ball and came over to investigate.

"Can you please read it for me?" he begged. "I don't care if it says anything bad, I want to know the whole thing."

"Okay," Fuji said. He took the note and stared at it for several seconds before managing to pull the pieces together. There were some things in English that just couldn't be translated, but he thought he had the general idea.

"It starts out '_I am sorry to be writing you a note, but there is so much to say before I leave.'" _

Fuji hoped Echizen meant he was leaving for the middle school. But the way it was written...Fuji looked up to see that the whole team was listening. Eiji didn't seem to mind, though, so he continued reading.

"_Please know that I regret the way I treated you.__You never deserved that and I hope you listen to Oishi-senpai when he tells you this. I was tired and upset - but not with you."_

"Ochibi is so cute!" Eiji said happily. "Sorry, Fujiko. Go on."

"_I have never regretted knowing you. You were the first one to truly accept me as a regular and your hugs are never as annoying as I make them out to be (they remind me of my home country...but please forget I ever said that)."_

"They remind him of America?" Oishi said, confused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"An important part of Western culture is being openly affectionate," Inui broke in. "It is not uncommon to see people kiss, hug, or proclaim their love in public. "

Oishi thought about this, then nodded. "I see. Please continue, Fuji."

"Saa...here, he says, '_Besides an apology, the best I can offer is an explanation. I hope it does not seem too much like an excuse_.'"

Out of the corner of his eye, Fuji saw Kuroda heading in their general direction.

He hurried through the half-English half-Japanese text, though it seemed to get more sporadic near the end of the letter.

"_My family is going through a difficult time at the moment. The past month we have traveled between Japan and America several times. The flight is long and the constant switching of time zones is disorienting. I am often tired and stressed when I return home."_

Kuroda called something out to them, but he was easy enough to ignore.

_"I wish I had time to tell you this all in person. Once again, I'm sorry."_

"What is going on here?" Kuroda said, sounding angry.

As if coming out of a trance, the ex-regulars scrambled to their feet and returned to their earlier exercises. All except Fuji, who stayed where he was, letter clutched in the one hand.

"It appears I still don't feel so well," he said, not an ounce of emotion in his voice. "I'm leaving."

"B-but Yamada will find that unacceptable," Kuroda stuttered. "You were already excused from practice earlier this week."

"Yamada can go to hell," Fuji snapped. "And you can tell him that these practices are a joke."

Kuroda immediately flushed…from embarrassment? Anger? Fuji was too far gone to notice. Even though Eiji was begging him to stop, he wouldn't back down. He couldn't take anymore of it.

By now a small crowd had gathered, and Kuroda was desperate.

"Fuji, if you leave these courts you're off the team!"

Fuji turned back and paused, appearing taking those words into account. And with that, Kuroda's panicked expression vanished, to be replaced by one of the victory.

But Fuji wasn't finished.

"There is no team," he said icily. Then he very pointedly headed for the exit, feeling freer than he had in months.

He didn't have to look behind him to know who had followed

***

"What is going on here?" Kuroda said, sounding annoyed.

As if coming out of a trance, the ex-regulars scrambled to their feet and returned to their earlier exercises. All except Fuji, who stayed where he was, letter clutched in the one hand.

"It appears I still don't feel so well," he said, not an ounce of emotion in his voice. "I'm leaving."

"B-but Yamada will find that unacceptable," Kuroda stuttered. "You were already excused from practice earlier this week."

"Yamada can go to hell," Fuji snapped. "And you can tell him that these practices are a joke."

Kuroda immediately flushed…from embarrassment? Anger? Fuji was too far gone to notice. Even though Eiji was begging him to stop, he wouldn't back down. He couldn't take anymore of it.

By now a small crowd had gathered, and Kuroda was desperate.

"Fuji, if you leave these courts you're off the team!"

Fuji turned back and paused, appearing taking those words into account. And with that, Kuroda's panicked expression vanished, to be replaced by one of the victory.

But Fuji wasn't finished.

"There is no team," he said icily. Then he very pointedly headed for the exit, feeling freer than he had in months.

He didn't have to look behind him to know who had followed

***

"_What_?!"

A few looked up at his exclamation, but soon went back to their magazines. Ryoma ignored them and stared intently at the screen, debating whether or not to dive for his phone. He didn't want his friends to hear the background noise of the airport (surely, at least Fuji would figure it out), but he had to know what they'd been thinking.

He chose instead to continue staring. It was costing him 100 yen a minute to use the stupid thing, but it stopped mattering. Ryoma read through the e-mail a third time, wanting to make sure he understood right.

_Hey, Echizen, do you have any idea what went down at Seigaku High School today? I've gotten three calls already asking me if I know. _

_Apparently Syuusuke led some kind of rebellion at practice, and quit the tennis team. Tezuka, the regulars from Seigaku Middle School, and some others...they also quit. Everyone is terrified to go straight to the source, but I thought you might know? Syuusuke seems close to you. Rumor also has it you might have been involved, by writing some sort of note? _

_I know the captain is unpopular there, but there's only a week left in the school year. I'm so confused._

_-Fuji Yuuta_

Quit the tennis team? The fuck?

As if on cue, his phone rang. Ryoma absently pulled it out and answered it, mind still reeling.

"_Brat?_"

"Che. Monkey King." He would have made a snarky comment about one conversation being enough, but this was an exception.

"_Do you know the hell is going on_?"

"No," Ryoma snapped, maybe a bit harsher than he meant to. "I'm at the goddamn airport. Not really in a position to do anything."A long pause, and Ryoma wondered if Atobe had hung up. _"Hm..." _he finally said.

_"Aren't they calling you?"_

"Yes."

_"You're worried about them and they're worried about you...just pick up the damn phone!"_

"Don't want to."

"_If you just told them where you were - "_

"Shut up, Atobe! You don't know anything."

Ryoma was aware he was sounding more and more like a petulant child, but he was upset. Fucking airport, fucking America, fucking tennis team deciding to quit?

Atobe seemed to realize this, because he sighed and stopped giving advice.

"_Good luck, then."_

"...thanks."

Ryoma hung up and logged off that computer, wincing at the 600 yen charge. Fucking airport. He then pulled out his phone and checked his other missed calls. Three from Momo, one from Tezuka and one from Fuji. Hm...Fuji wasn't nearly as annoying as Atobe, and Tezuka could probably explain the situation in under a minute. Maybe he should just...

"_Flight 4475 to San Francisco, United States now boarding_."

Fuck.

***

Ryuzaki Sumire did not even bother to get a guest pass as she stormed into the high school. She knew she would find the athletics director, Ikeda Yutaka, behind his desk, as the man believed very strongly in "not interfering". Ryuzaki privately thought it was "being lazy".

A minute later Ryuzaki burst into his office, inwardly pleased as the man jumped.

"What do you mean, Tezuka quit?!"

Ikeda recovered quickly, leaning back in his chair and adopting a more nonchalant expression.

"Yes, I imagine the stress finally got to the boy. And it's no use trying to persuade me otherwise; he's simply ineligible to be captain next - "

"Don't give me that crap! He's obviously the best for the position!"

"Well, it's ultimately Yamada's decision, and he has said that - "

Ryuzaki slammed both hands on Ikeda's desk, frustrated the man didn't seem to understand. "Yamada is an idiot who can't keep the team together!"

"That's simply not true," Ikeda said mildly. "First of all, Yamada wasn't even there. It was the vice captain, Kuroda Uz - "

"So he's still on his little vacation? Honestly - "

"Additionally," Ikeda continued, pretending like he hadn't heard. "It was Tezuka's friend who broke up the practice. And Tezuka followed, although I don't pretend to know his motives."

"His friend?"

Ryuzaki could think of only a handful of people who could influence Tezuka in such a way. Echizen, for sure. Oishi, Taka...well, all the middle school regulars.

"Er...the very clever one. Somewhat unmotivated."

"Fuji Syuusuke," Ryuzaki said immediately.

"That's him."

Well. That certainly complicated things.

"So, you see," Ikeda continued, "at this point, there's really nothing I can do. Rules are rules, and as Tezuka is not officially on the team, he cannot be considered for captain."

"The rules are not helping in this situation," Ryuzaki said carefully. "Tezuka is a very skilled leader and just as good of a tennis player."

"But the point is - "

"Yes, I see what you're saying," Ryuzaki said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. "But let's just say the stress from exams got to him. If he came in to apologize - Fuji as well - could you at least consider giving the spot to him?"

Ikeda smirked, pleased to find himself back in a position of power. "Yes, I'd consider it."

Ryuzaki said her goodbyes and left, wondering how to get Tezuka and Fuji to apologize. Tezuka wanted the spot, she knew. He could be convinced, as long as the rest of the team was supportive.

On the other hand, Fuji would undoubtedly cause trouble. Ryuzaki felt a headache forming, reminiscent of all those times in middle school she had tried to get Fuji to play seriously. He didn't seem to motivated by anything...Tezuka, maybe. And Echizen, eventually. But if Echizen was off fighting his own battles and if Tezuka couldn't control him...

At this point, Ryuzaki would get on her knees and beg. Because she had sent some seriously strong players on to Seigaku High School, and she couldn't stand by any longer and watch them waste their talent.

Not for another year, at least.

***

Ryuzaki was at Seigaku early the next day, with a lot of paperwork to fill out and even more thinking to do. She could have used Ryoma's help, but the boy had looked so stricken yesterday that she had let him go.

She thought again of the phone call Ryoma had received, wondering whether she should investigate it further. It had come from overseas, she knew, and the caller was female and upset. Ryuzaki didn't want to invade the boy's trust, but lately he had been so...different.

Absently, she wondered if Tezuka had made any progress, then looked up and swore colorfully. Speak of the devil.

"I can come back if this is not a good time," Tezuka said. His expression gave away nothing, but Ryuzaki thought he sounded slightly anxious.

"I always have time for you, Tezuka," Ryuzaki said, gesturing to a chair.

Tezuka bowed and took the proffered chair. He was taller than Ryuzaki remembered, and his features were a bit more angular, but he still had the same serious expression. And, from what she could tell, he was still respected and admired by the tennis team. She simply couldn't understand Ikeda or Yamada's objections.

"I'm sure you've heard what happened at practice yesterday," Tezuka said, getting straight to the point.

"I did," Ryuzaki said. "Although I don't approve of it, I don't deny Kuroda makes a foolish captain."

Tezuka nodded. "Then we're both on the same page. I was hoping you could extend my apology to the middle schoolers."

"You haven't told Ryoma?"

Tezuka frowned. "I can't seem to get a hold of him. This is not unusual, but the thing is - "

"Sorry I'm late," came a new voice.

Ryuzaki looked up to see none other than Fuji Syuusuke sweep into the room, a very familiar smirk fixed on his face. Tezuka sighed exasperatedly, apparently used to this sort of behavior. On the other hand, Ryuzaki had difficulty closing her mouth.

"Rude as usual, Fuji," she said, once she had recovered.

"Good to see you, Sumire," Fuji replied, taking the chair next to Tezuka.

It certainly brought back memories, having the captain and his best friend back in her office. Fuji had grown a few inches and was wearing his hair longer, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. And if she wasn't mistaken, he looked rather tired.

"I believe Ryoma has some family business to take care of," Ryuzaki said. Tezuka frowned and Fuji suddenly looked worried, but they didn't press any further. Nor did they have anything to add.

Ryuzaki felt another headache forming. Ryoma really needed to stop being so stubborn and_ tell_ someone.

"But it's good you're here, Fuji," Ryuzaki continued. "There is actually a chance Tezuka can become captain - "

"If both of us apologize to Kuroda," Fuji finished.

Ryuzaki tried not to show her surprise, but it was difficult. Then she tried to tell what Fuji thought of this idea, but his express was just as cryptic as it had been in middle school. Tezuka might have been slightly hopeful.

"I really hate him," Fuji said mildly. "And Yamada, for that matter."

"But this - "

"However, I will suck up to him for the sake of next year."

"Thank you," Tezuka said, partly to Fuji and partly to Ryuzaki. "We'll apologize before school on Monday."

Maybe they really had changed. A year ago, Fuji never would have been so agreeable, and Tezuka would not have swallowed his pride so soon. Her face must have shown her confusion, because Tezuka added an explanation.

"Yesterday it wasn't Kuroda that bothered us," he said. "He's been our vice captain for a whole year."

Fuji picked it up from there. "Echizen had written Eiji a note. He sounded...sort of distant, and upset. We are frustrated we can't...we can't..."

"We can't be there for him," Tezuka said calmly. "Hopefully next year will be better."

"Best of luck," Ryuzaki said, watching the two high schoolers leave.

She went back to her paperwork, wishing Ryoma was there. Not because she needed help with the tournament lineup, but because she wanted to explain there were people who cared.

***

A few thousand miles away, Ryoma fought off a dizzy spell as the nurse pulled a needle from his arm.

"All done, honey!" she said, far too cheerfully. "I'm so happy you are doing this for your cousin!"

Statements like that made the guilt intensify and Ryoma want to throw up. He fought the urge, though, and managed to right himself with thoughts of home. It was probably nighttime there...Karupin would be hungry. He had left extra food out for her, right?

_I just want to go home..._

The nurse was putting a sticker on his blood bag, with "O - ", a smiley face and three exclamation points. Apparently they were that desperate.

"Can I see her?" he asked, trying not to sound too tired. He had learned the hard way that the nurses here would panic at the slightest sign something was wrong.

"Unfortunately, she's in isolation, but she's doing wonderfully!"

Whatever. Ryoma grabbed his tennis bag and got up to leave. His flight was scheduled for 2:05 p.m. Or 7:05 p.m. from America, though it might still be Friday here? Or was it the other way around?

Ugh. He just had to make it home.

"Wait a second, Ryoma. Would you like me to get your parents?"

Ryoma thought it was kind of sad, that the nurse knew his name, why he was there, and who his parents were. He kind of wished they didn't.

"It's alright," he told her. He thought her name was Iako. "I'll probably be back later."

* * *

i'm telling you guys...there will be EPIC ANGST and a fujiryo confrontation next chapter. i keep putting it off, but this time it's for real.

please review! and if you have any ideas/anything you'd like to see included, throw that stuff out there. because i have the next two chapters planned out...but after that, i'm drowning.


	5. in which ryoma sleeps in fuji's bed

thanks to my reviewers! you make me blush/update. in particular fujikyouya (nice guess and ditto about the goofy smile!!! 3)...also Anime and Manga 4ever XD just gave me an idea...hm...

* * *

When asked, Yuuta always said he hated Saturday night dinners, because both Yumiko and Syuusuke were there to tease him. Truthfully, he actually looked forward to their time together, but it's not like he would tell his siblings that.

Today, however, Syuusuke was in a terrible mood. And when Syuusuke was in a terrible mood, everyone knew it. His parents was kind enough not to press, but Yuuta wondered if it had something to do with Friday's tennis drama. He listened with one ear as his parents lectured about their finals, but was saved as Yumiko started talking about university.

"Nanako-chan called today," she said. Her tone was dark enough that Yuuta made an effort to pay attention. "She's Aya's roommate, from across the hall?"

"Oh, that's right," his father said. "You spent a lot of time visiting her when you were freshmen. I hear her cancer came back."

Syuusuke was listlessly pushing his food around on his plate, but abruptly got up and went to the refrigerator. Yumiko sighed and kept talking.

"They're trying a new hospital this time - in America. Her parents have flown out to be with her but they left behind her cousin. I said I would check on him for her. And...if it's not too much trouble, we could have him over for a few nights."

"It's no trouble," his mother said warmly. "Poor dear probably hasn't had a home cooked meal in quite some time."

"He's only fourteen..." Yumiko said, trailing off sadly. "Actually...I believe he's in his last year at Seigaku Middle School. Perhaps you know him, Syuusuke?"

It was more a rhetorical question, but Syuuske went absolutely white. A second later, there was a tremendous crash as a dish made its way to the floor.

"Syuu, honey, what's the matter?!"

Syuuske brushed off their mother's concern, staring at Yumiko with eyes that were shockingly dark.

"_What's his name?_"

"Echizen. Echizen Ryoma."

Yuuta gasped, suddenly realizing why his brother was so upset. "You...you don't mean the tennis player."

"Of course she means the tennis player!" Syuusuke snapped. Then he sank back into his chair, looking defeated. "Fuck."

"Does anyone want to explain what's going on?" his mother asked mildly, sweeping up the dish that Syuusuke had dropped. She also overlooked the swearing, which was a smart decision on her part.

"I'm going to bed," Fuji said shortly. He looked slightly upset, but Yuuta imagined it went much deeper than that.

There was a stunned silence as his brother left the room. It was rare for Syuusuke to lose his temper, and when he did the intensity was surprising.

"Well. I take it he does know the boy?" his father managed.

Yuuta sighed. He didn't want to help his family put the pieces together, but he knew he wouldn't be excused until he did.

"You probably know him too," he said. "He's been over here once or twice, for team dinners. It would have been...two years ago."

"He was a regular, then," Yumiko said, drawing conclusion in his head. "As a first year?"

Yuuta smiled slightly, remembering how Echizen had quickly and mercilessly proved he deserved the spot. "He's captain this year. He's very good."

"How good?" his father asked. "He sounds familiar, but there were so many players at those tournaments."

"He's beaten me before," Yuuta said. "It was a long time ago, but I know he's improved since then. And I know aniki and him have played, but I don't know the outcome."

"Oh!" his mother exclaimed suddenly. "Yes. Syuusuke came home soaking wet and he went on about it for days."

"I thought he was in love," Yumiko said, laughing as she remembered. "And I don't think he ever got over it, ne?"

"Er...they are very similar," Yuuta said. The idea of Ryoma and Syuusuke dating...well, it seemed oddly possible. Echizen was one of very few people who could keep pace with Syuusuke both on and off the courts. As a couple, they would be very -

Ugh. He was not thinking about that!

"Well, we should definitely have him over," his father said. "It seems no one has any objections, and the boy has been without his family for...how long?"

"About a month," Yumiko supplied. "It's been difficult, I'm sure."

"You have no idea," Yuuta said, thinking of the way the high schools had been thrown off balance. Next year was supposed to be different, with Tezuka as captain and Seigaku storming the courts once more...Ryoma as powerful support...

_You better be alright, Echizen..._

***

Yuuta could have sworn that his brother had learned to _project _his feelings while in high school. He'd been difficult to deal with before, but now Yuuta felt he was being glared at _even when Syuusuke wasn't in the room. _

He sighed and decided he was being irrational. It was 2:00 a.m. and there was no way Syuusuke was awake. Maybe he would check, though, just to reassure himself.

Yuuta trudged down the hallway and carefully slid open his brother's door.

Shit. Syuusuke was laying on his bed...but he was most definitely awake. His gaze slid from the ceiling to his brother, and Yuuta shuddered.

"S-sorry, aniki. I was just - "

"It's alright. Please come in."

Yuuta did, because there was no way he could refuse when his brother looked like...like _that. Like someone had pulled a rug out from under him. It was the first time he had seen his brother utterly without confidence - not in his face, his posture, or his tone of voice._

"I'm kind of a mess, Yuuta," Syuusuke said dully.

Yuuta flinched. He had figured as much...and yet he hadn't expected his brother to drop his act so quickly.

"Are you upset because Echizen didn't tell you?"

Syuusuke sat up, searching for the words. "I didn't really expect him too. I mean...I consider him to be one of my best friends, but he is a very private person."

"So you didn't do anything wrong," Yuuta tried. He thought that the expression on his brother's face might have traces of guilt.

There was a long pause.

"Yes I did," Syuusuke said. "I should have tried harder to figure out what was wrong."

"But you said so yourself! Echizen is a very private person, and - "

"He still needed help, Yuuta! And...as his senpai, as his _friend, _I should have been there to give it to him!"

Under the light from the window, Syuuske looked close to tears. Yuuta tried to get over his shock, tried to think of something to say, but it was suddenly difficult.

The pause lengthened, and Yuuta tried to think of what Yumiko would do. It was funny, how there roles had been reversed.

"It's not...too late," Yuuta finally said. "Is it?"

"You're right, it's not," Syuusuke said, and he seemed to be composing himself. "I can talk to him tomorrow, when he is home again. Although he might be tired from his flight...he's landing in an hour and probably won't get much sleep."

He appeared to be thinking out loud, but Yuuta caught every word and wondered...

"You know what time his flight is?"

"Saa...I looked it up," Syuusuke said absently.

His brother was both clever and shameless enough to do something like that. Yuuta didn't exactly disapprove, but it was kind of creepy. Hm. And in this case...

"Why don't you meet him at the airport?"

"Could I...?"

A second later his brother stood up, eyes glittering as he reached for his jacket.

Yuuta flopped back on the bed and sighed, finally feeling tired. He still didn't get Syuusuke. At all. But the way he talked about Echizen...he thought back to Yumiko's words. Was it really love?

Didn't matter, as long as his brother had figured it out.

"I'm leaving," Syuusuke announced, and this time he didn't sound like he was asking for permission.

"Your welcome!" Yuuta called after him.

He deserved some credit after all.

***

Ryoma pulled out his phone to call Atobe, but was greeted with a dark screen. Fuck. As usual, the hour he'd spent in America had completely killed the charge.

But at this point, he was desperate. Ryoma knew there was no way he could make it from the airport to the train station, let alone from the train station to his house. He felt like hell, and wanted nothing more than to fall to the floor and just curl up.

He needed help. There had to be a pay phone around somewhere. And his wallet, and a phonebook.

Swallowing his pride, Ryoma thought of who to call. If he couldn't get a hold of Atobe, then he would try one of the regulars. Despite it being the middle of the night, they would show up without hesitation...if he could get through the phone call.

"Please connect me to the Atobe residence."

"Are you looking for the Atobe Corporation in downtown Tokyo?"

"No," he snapped. His throat felt raw, but swallowing didn't help. "I need to talk to Atobe Keigo."

"There is no home number listed for Atobe Corporation."

Of course. Ryoma hung up and tried again to turn on his cell phone. No luck. Then he fumbled for his wallet, but his hands were shaking and he couldn't seem focus. He thought he had two quarters left.

Who would pick up? Tezuka? Eiji? Fuji?

God, his head was going to split open.

"Your time has expired. Please insert another 25 cents into the machine."

Ryoma sighed, leaned against the wall and - almost against his will - slid slowly down to the floor. Maybe if he just...rested for second, he could get home on his own.

Suddenly he heard a very gentle, very familiar voice coming from somewhere above his head. His condition must have been more serious than he thought, because this was definitely some sort of hallucination.

"Echizen?"

It really wasn't fair, for his body AND his mind to be ganging up on him. He only wanted to get home.

"Echizen, please wake up."

He would do many, many things for Fuji, but that was asking a bit much. Especially because it was hallucinatory-Fuji and not real-Fuji.

But Ryoma decided that good enough, because he didn't really want to be here in the airport by himself. He looked up, feeling a gentle hand on his shoulder. With the last of his energy his eyes widened and his heartbeat quickened, because hallucinations didn't _touch. _

A second later the image came into focus - Fuji was kneeling before him, blue eyes filled with concern.

He was real. He was _here._

Why?

"Fuji-senpai, I - "

He tried, but the words were swallowed in an overwhelming sense of relief - of being safe, of being home...

And then everything was over.

***

Ryoma gave him one look. That was all Fuji needed to see how exhausted the boy was, how golden eyes were dulled with fever. He reached out to catch Ryoma as he slumped forward, balancing the weight of the younger boy along with his guilt.

_Is this my fault?_

Fuji quickly stopped that line of thought, knowing that now wasn't the time. He needed to calm down and get Ryoma somewhere clean, safe and warm. Home.

With that thought in mind, Fuji carefully slid his arms around the smaller boy, carrying him bridal style out of the airport. He ignored the curious stares, situated Ryoma in the back seat of their parents car, lent him his jacket in hopes it would stop the shivering, and...

that's when methodical thinking failed and Fuji just _broke. _

To see Ryoma so sick and so vulnerable...

To know what he had been struggling with for so long...

What would have happened if he hadn't come? Who would have been there, to take care of him?

Fuji knelt on the pavement and reached out to take Ryoma's hand, smiling sadly as he recognized the calluses. It was hard to remember that Ryoma was the cocky and arrogant brat who had taken the courts by storm.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I am so, so sorry."

***

Ryoma still hadn't stirred by the time Fuji reached his house. He decided it was best to let the boy sleep, and gently carried him upstairs, took off his shoes and covered him up best he could. The shivering gradually became less violent, and Fuji breathed a sigh of relief.

He got up to search for a thermometer, but felt small hand grab his wrist.

"Please don't leave," Ryoma begged. He looked absolutely miserable, eyes glossy and unfocused in a way that made Fuji's heart twist.

"Echizen," he said softly. "I'll only be gone for a minute."

"Only be gone..." Ryoma echoed, sounding oddly lost. "For a week." He released the other boy's hand and listlessly turned his head away.

It didn't feel right, but Fuji left him there and went to the bathroom, quickly rummaging through the cabinets before returning. His heart nearly broke when Ryoma looked up at him, tired golden eyes revealing his relief.

Fuji muttered nonsensical things to calm them both down, and managed to get Ryoma to choke down the medicine and the water. The thermometer said the fever was high, but not life-threatening. He waited the boy fell into an uneasy sleep, then got up to make up a bed on the floor.

He didn't get very far. Ryoma reached out and grabbed his wrist, tugging with a strength that caught Fuji off balance. He stumbled and fell awkwardly onto the bed, Ryoma immediately snuggling closer to the source of warmth.

"Saa...Echizen," Fuji said tiredly. "Please let me go."

"Don't leave," Ryoma said again, more desperate than before. He shivered, only stopping when Fuji sighed and put a hand on his back.

"I'm not leaving," he said, carefully shifting into a more comfortable position. He figured he would wait until Ryoma fell asleep before moving to the floor.

Fuji looked down at the other boy and wondered...what kind of parents could neglect their child so thoroughly? What kind of pride had kept Ryoma going?

What had happened?

***

Ryoma awoke feeling warm, safe, and confused. Even in the dim lighting, it was clear he wasn't in his bed. And the room was a lot neater than he kept his - books organized, pictures neatly hung and framed, and not a dirty sock in sight.

It was weird. His sense of alarm was delayed, because some part of his mind knew where he was.

He figured it out a minute later, when the door swung open and none other than Fuji Syuusuke entered, schoolbag in hand. Fuji flicked his eyes to the bed, then froze. He dropped his schoolbag and was at Ryoma's side in a second, one hand feeling the younger boy's forehead.

Ryoma jumped at the touch, but it seemed familiar. He felt a memory drift back...he'd been at the airport...

"Fever's broke," Fuji said, interrupting his thoughts. His face split into a wide, genuine smile. "I'll be right back with some water."

Ryoma drank the liquid gratefully, somewhat embarrassed by his weakness. He ducked his head in apology, trying to remember how to talk.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to be such a burden."

The smile immediately dropped off Fuji's face, and he looked almost angry. "It doesn't work like that, Echizen."

Ryoma shifted, uncomfortable with the way Fuji was looking at him. But the boy had actually driven out in the dead of night, _carried _him out of the airport, brought him to his own house and then dealt with his fever. Even his parents surely would have considered that a burden.

Before he could voice these thoughts to his senpai, Fuji dropped his gaze and turned to the window. He drew back the curtains, revealing unexpected daylight.

Ryoma blinked. It looked to be early morning...he was in Japan...he'd flown back from America's timezone...was he mistaken?

"You've been asleep for twenty-four hours straight," Fuji said, seeing Ryoma's confusion "It's about 6:00 a.m. on a Monday."

Ryoma immediately winced. Donating blood made him exhausted, but it had never been this extreme. He quickly felt uncomfortable that Fuji had put up with him for so long.

"I can go to school, then," he said suddenly. "I'll leave to get some clothes." He sat up, wincing as a headache cut through his thoughts.

"I don't think so," Fuji said, tone gentle but firm. "Today, you're staying here."

Ryoma only looked at his senpai, somewhat disoriented by the situation. Fuji only smiled and turned away, seemingly content to let Ryoma make the first move.

They fell into silence, Fuji going through his morning routine and Ryoma struggling to figure out reality. Watching Fuji move around the room, he suddenly felt like an intruder. His discomfort tripled when he watched Fuji water his strange-looking plants.

"Karupin! I completely forgot - "

"Kaidoh is taking care of her," Fuji interrupted.

Ryoma was immediately suspicious. "Why?"

"I asked him to," Fuji said sweetly. "I told him you were sick."

"You told him?" Ryoma echoed, horrified.

"I didn't tell him _why _you were sick," Fuji said, frowning again. "Don't look at me like that."

"But you know," Ryoma said wildly, putting the pieces together. "You knew I was in America, and you were at the airport..."

Fuji nodded, expression unreadable.

"Who told you? Atobe-senpai?"

"Yumiko stays in the same dorm at Nanako. She was talking about it during dinner."

Ryoma immediately felt his stomach clench, suddenly remembering an earlier conversation with his mother. She was apologetic and he was anxious, and nothing she said had made sense at the time.

_"Nanako asked one of her friends from the University to check in on you. Just to make sure everything's alright."_

_"__**You can even stay with them if you want. I believe her name is Yumi - she's very nice. And she has two little brothers..."**_

Fuji Yumiko. Two little brothers.

Oh, _fuck. _

"You know about Nanako," Ryoma said. It was more of a question than a statement, but Fuji nodded anyway. He had stopped organizing his schoolbag to and was sitting on the end of the bed, looking suspiciously at ease.

"I'm not going to tell anyone, Echizen."

"But you _know_," Ryoma said, embarassed to find tears welling up.

"Is that a problem?" Fuji said, sounding deceptively mild.

Even Eiji would have been easier to face. Ryoma pulled the blanket over his head, not caring how childish it was. He couldn't stand crying in front of his senpai. He was tired, and his head hurt again, and he wished his parents were here. With Nanako. She would be healthy, and they could go back to the way things were...Fuji being nothing more than his teammate.

***

"Echizen?" Fuji said, reaching one hand out towards the pile of blankets.

"Go away," came a muffled voice.

Fuji sighed, stood up and went to the window. He had seen Ryoma go from completely confused to horrified to terrified to...something else. Both of them were in way over their heads, but there was no way he would back out now. Ryoma couldn't, either. His pride kept him afloat, and that was both a blessing and a curse.

"I don't think it was selfish to keep it a secret," Fuji began, desperately hoping it was the right thing to say. "You didn't want anyone to treat you differently, is that right?"

No answer.

"And I'm not angry at you," he said honestly. "But I think you underestimate how much everyone cares about you."

"I think you should tell them."

With that, Ryoma jerked back the blankets.

"You don't know anything!" he cried, tears running down his cheeks.

Fuji felt his heart stop, because he had never seen Ryoma look so angry, so hurt. And it was his fault.

He couldn't let go. Not yet.

"Then explain it to me!" Fuji yelled back. He thought, for one agonizing moment, that Ryoma would pull away - that he would say nothing, that he was gone. But then he choked back his tears and fixed that terrible gaze on Fuji.

"She was sick before, in America. I fucking _hated _it." Ryoma paused, to take a deep, shuddering breath. "Everyone who knew - my parents, my friends - they ignored me, or they were so scared, so unsure they wouldn't say a damn word to me!"

"They were idiots, then."

Ryoma turned away, but Fuji grabbed his hand and tried desperately to make him understand.

"Things are different here. I wouldn't...we would never hurt you."

"I...I don't know," Ryoma choked out. "Everything is different this time...I just don't know."

Fuji pulled Ryoma into his arms, wanting to let him know that he was there, that he would do anything - _anything - _to help. Anger gave way to fear and uncertainty, and Ryoma clutched the older boy's sleeves and cried.

"I'm so fucking scared..."

* * *

this. chapter. was. BEAST.

i can't even tell you how many times i rewrote that last conversation...i couldn't decide if i wanted fuji to be angry or all sweet. in the end everyone just ended up ooc (i had finals, ryoma's sick and fuji's in love. excuses x 3)

next chapter we probably have tezuka showing up...er...the apology to yamada (damn, i still forgot to give him a first name) is somewhere in the timeline. and we'll stop in with the regulars. maybe atobe (i love atobe, does it show?). and fuji family interaction. and echizen family interaction. and romantic action (slow, but sure).

we'll get there...


	6. in which there are minor trust issues

Ryoma turned the page. The next page, too. When he reached the third chapter it became clear that things were not improving - the girl was dangling off another cliff, the boy still rushing to her aid. It was written in English, which normally made his head hurt less than kanji, but now he was seriously doubting Fuji's taste in literature.

Fuji reentered the room, smirking at the expression on Ryoma's face. "It's for class," he said. "We're studying the portrayal of women in Western literature."

Ryoma turned his incredulous gaze back to the book, though it wasn't Western culture that confused him. It was Fuji himself. He'd seen Ryoma sick, exhausted, screaming, crying - really, at his worst. And yet, Fuji didn't seem to find this the least bit awkward. He was content to straighten his tie and make fun of the school curriculum, when less than an hour ago he'd been sitting on the bed and comforting Ryoma as he cried.

It wasn't as though Ryoma _wanted_ to dwell on everything that was wrong with his life. But he had thought Fuji would be curious, intent on dragging out the whole story. The older boy had a reputation for knowing things, and this in itself kept people on the edge.

Ryoma didn't feel on the edge. Should he be more careful?

"What are you thinking about, Echizen? Surely the book isn't that entertaining?"

"Iie."

Ryoma thought that Fuji sounded amused, and genuinely interested. Then again, it was said his emotions were fake. Though this was mostly perpetuated by members of his fan club, also struggling to pin down Fuji's motives.

"Are you hungry?" Fuji asked absently. "You can join me for breakfast, if you want."

As his teammate, Ryoma had never paid attention to rumors. Fuji was a skilled opponent, just as clever and unpredictable off the courts. But he'd never been this dependent on his senpai, and the situation was worth reevaluating.

"Echizen?"

He thought he owed Fuji the benefit of the doubt.

***

Ryoma did _not_ need to be helped down a flight of stairs. He was feeling perfectly fine. Just a tiny, tiny bit dizzy, and that was because he'd been in bed for the past twenty-four hours.

"So stubborn, Echizen," Fuji said lightly. "I could carry you, if you like."

"Yadda," Ryoma said, scowling at the other boy. He was fairly sure Fuji was actually _enjoying _watching him struggle down the stairs.

Fuji made a tsking noise. "That's no way to treat your senpai."

He remembered from practice that Fuji was a morning person, but practice was very different than eating breakfast. Ryoma eventually made it down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he was startled to see Fuji's parents sitting at the table. He tried very hard not to think of the last time that had happened at his house...it must have been months ago.

Fuji's parents both looked up when they entered, and his mother immediately smiled and got to her feet. The expression seemed natural to her, and her face showed a clear resemblance to her son.

"My mother, Fuji Natsumi," Fuji said.

"Yoroshiku," Ryoma murmured, bowing deeply. "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Echizen-kun, it's so nice to see you awake," she said cheerfully. "And so polite!"

"Saa...not usually."

"Syuusuke!" she admonished, but there was no bite in it. She turned to the cabinet and retrieved two extra plates. "Both of you are more than welcome to join us for breakfast."

Fuji gestured to a chair for Ryoma, who gratefully took it. He suddenly felt a pair of eyes of him, and looked up to see Fuji's father studying him over the newspaper.

"Fuji Hajime," he said by way of introducction. "Please - skip the formalities," he added, seeing Ryoma about to stand up again. His eyes were a very bright, very familiar shade of blue. Ryoma tried not to squirm in his chair.

"I hear you were raised in America," Hajime said, setting the newspaper aside. "What do you think about - "

"Oh, stop it," Natsumi cut in. "You two can talk all about it later, but Echizen will eat first." She turned to Ryoma. "I'm afraid we don't have any American food."

"He prefers Japanese food," Fuji said, settling into the chair beside Ryoma. "Am I right?"

"How did you - "

"That's what you ordered at that cafe last week," Fuji said. He suddenly pouted. "Even though I went through the trouble of finding a place with Western-style breakfasts. I thought you ate American food at home."

Ryoma was about to make a comment about disgusting it was, but he suddenly realized he didn't hate his mother's cooking that much. Right now he was eating what he had time for. After practice was over and his homework was done, it was usually frozen dinners or nothing at all.

"I don't like American food," he finally said, halfheartedly. He missed it. And he was slightly touched that Fuji had gone through the trouble when picking out that cafe.

Just then Fuji's mother came back to the table, setting down a bowl of rice porridge for Ryoma and grilled fish for Fuji.

"If you can get that down I'll give you some fish," she told Ryoma, then dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But don't eat anything from Syuusuke or his father."

"It's not that bad," Fuji said, slightly indignant. "We just add some taste to it."

"Your poor taste buds must be dying!"

Ryoma smiled ever so slightly and bent over his porridge. As he listened to Fuji and his mother bicker and answered Hajime's questions about America, he decided it was the best breakfast he's had in a long time.

***

As it neared 7:00, Fuji's parents took off for work, Natsumi to a physical therapy clinic and Hajime to a journalism office. Much to Ryoma's surprise, Natsumi kissed them both on the forehead before leaving.

Ryoma rubbed his forehead absently, watching Fuji finish his breakfast. "Er...are you going to practice?"

"You heard, then," Fuji said. "I hope you're not too upset." He looked over at Ryoma, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Your reasons were fine," Ryoma snapped, uncomfortable with the way Fuji was studying him. "Well...maybe not yours, Fuji-senpai."

Fuji frowned. "That stings, Echizen."

"But if Tezuka-buchou also quit then it's fine."

"I see," Fuji said shortly. "If Tezuka does it, it must be right." He got up to clear the dishes, refusing to meet Ryoma's eyes.

Ryoma sighed. Since when had Fuji started acting like a moody teenage girl? "That's not what I meant."

"Hn."

"Fuji-senpai!" Ryoma said, frustrated. "I trust your judgment. I just...I'm not used to it."

The doorbell rang. Fuji turned off the faucet and went to answer it, expression unreadable. Ryoma rested his head on his hands and sighed. He didn't understand Fuji, sometimes.

It wasn't as though he didn't respect the other boy. When he was serious, Fuji could easily match Tezuka in terms of skill. And he was loyal to his teammates, always perceptive of things that mattered to them. But he was more unpredictable, his motives less clear, than Tezuka. Tezuka made it clear he ranked tennis, always, no matter what. Fuji was different.

Ryoma closed him eyes, feeling a headache forming. He heard the door open, followed by Fuji's slightly bitter laugh.

"Speak of the devil," the tensai said.

Ryoma sat bolt upright as he heard the newcomer's polite response. He immediately flicked his eyes to the stairs, wondering if he could manage them on his own. Probably not.

Why here? Why now? He sunk back into his chair and tried not to look sick. Fuji returned a second later, followed by the one person Ryoma really did not need to see right now.

"Ohayo, buchou," Ryoma said neutrally. Tezuka's eyes widened slightly, but he showed no other signs of surprise.

"Echizen," he greeted, setting down his tennis bag. Ryoma followed the movement, wondering if he had brought it out of habit or another reason.

"Sit," Fuji said. "I'll be back in the a minute."

They were left sitting in a slightly awkward silence. Ryoma stared at the table, feeling like he had too much to say but nowhere to start.

"You brought your tennis bag," he finally said. "Are you...are you going to practice?"

"Fuji and I are going to apologize to Yamada," Tezuka said. "How are you, Echizen?"

"Fine," Ryoma said. He remembered now what it was like to get information out of Tezuka. The boy could give one word responses without sounding rude, and rarely gave away what he was thinking. He was like Fuji, in that respect.

"You think Fuji will apologize?" Ryoma said, somewhat skeptically.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"For the sake of the team," Tezuka said. He sounded confident, though Ryoma wasn't so sure.

"Doesn't your practice start at 7:00?" Tezuka asked.

"Er...I called in sick." Ryoma squirmed a little in his chair, trying to tell himself Tezuka wasn't his captain, he didn't have to obey him, he didn't even have to _respect_ him, really.

"Fuji's mother did," he eventually clarified.

"I see."

Just then Fuji swept back into the room, his blazer slung over one shoulder and tennis bag over the other. Ryoma caught his eye and glared - _why did you bring Tezuka here? _ Fuji frowned slightly but said nothing.

"Ready?" Tezuka asked, pretending not to notice their exchange. "Echizen, would you like to come with?"

"He's staying here," Fuji cut in. "I mean it," he added, seeing Ryoma's expression.

"Good luck, Tezuka-buchou," Ryoma said, pointedly turning away. If Fuji was going to treat him like a child, he would damn well act like one.

***

It was out of habit and out of something else that the ex-regulars showed up for practice. They were greeted with the sight of the official players standing somewhat confusedly across all the courts, Kuroda directing them towards any empty spaces.

"That court taken?" Momo, jabbing his racket towards the far side.

"Yes," Kuroda answered, not bothering to look.

"What a jerk," Kaidoh muttered, in rare agreement with Momo.

Eiji also wholeheartedly agreed, showing it by sticking out his tongue on the way by. Joined by Inui and Taka, the rest of the team meandered to the sakura gardens around the corner. From the level of excitement in the air, the student body was clearly aware there was only a week left of school before finals.

"I hope everything turns out alright," Oishi said worriedly, settling down on the grass. "I don't think there's ever been so much conflict within the tennis club."

"That's because we've had decent captains," Taka cut in. "To be honest I'm surprised we lasted the whole year. Well, almost."

"According to my data," Inui said, adjusting his glasses in a way that meant he had something good to share, "approximately one third of players have quit the team. An additional third do not support Yamada although they are too…er…too frightened to show it."

"You should recount," Momo remarked. "I saw maybe twenty players still on the courts."

"Oh, there's Tezuka and Fuji!" Oishi said suddenly, waving at the pair across the gardens.

They looked to be in serious conversation, Fuji crossing and uncrossing his arms as he tried to explain something to Tezuka. The pair eventually caught sight of their friends, Tezuka nodding in their direction before turning back to Fuji and shaking his head.

"Interesting," Inui said, watching the conversation closely. "50% chance they are discussing the tennis team."

"What's the other 50%?" Taka asked curiously.

"Echizen Ryoma."

The name immediately changed the mood of the group into something much more serious. Echizen's lunch visit had been somewhat reassuring, but attending different schools made it hard to be certain.

"I went by his house a couple times this weekend," Momo said absently. "No one was there."

"Fssh, what are you, some kind of stalker?" Kaidoh said. He had altered his jogging route to do the same, but there was no way he was telling his rival that.

"Why are they going to the courts?" Oishi interrupted, confusedly watching Tezuka and Fuji turn the corner.

Eiji stood up, making an effort to look cheerful again. "Only one way to find out," he said. "Let's go."

***

Tezuka said his piece about how one era was drawing to a close, they hadn't meant to undermine his power, etc. Things he knew Kuroda would appreciate. The vice captain nodded smugly, and Tezuka turned it over to Fuji, praying the boy wouldn't mess anything up. Fuji had been uncharacteristically on edge all morning, not to mention his guest...

He shouldn't have worried. Fuji played his part beautifully, acting properly ashamed as he invoked the weather, finals, and "trouble at home" for his behavior. But because it hadn't been that hot, Fuji was top of his class without trying, and there was no way he would elaborate on Echizen's situation, it didn't quite work.

So he begged.

There was something strangely painful about watching Fuji on his knees, but Tezuka managed to keep his mouth shut. An emotional outburst was not what they needed right now. He wanted to say something to Fuji when he got up - thank you - but it would have ruined everything they'd done, so he only followed Fuji out of the courts. Their teammates joined them, looking surprised and excited.

"I hate him," Fuji hissed, as soon as they were around the corner. Eiji, who had his arm around Fuji's shoulder, jumped back in surprise.

"But you did it, Fujiko," he said. "You fixed everything with everyone!"

"I didn't do it for him!" Fuji snapped. He turned to Tezuka, blue eyes disconcertingly intense. "I did it for us."

"Thank you," Tezuka said, hoping Fuji understood how much this meant to him.

Fuji nodded and lazily stretched out under the sakura tree, tension draining from his posture. Now that was over...

"Can we go see Ochibi at lunch?" Eiji said hopefully.

"We can tell him the good news," Oishi said, pleased with the idea. "And there's no club activities this week, so - "

"He's not at school," Fuji cut in, closing his eyes.

"Where is he?" Momo demanded.

Fuji sighed, but decided there was no use trying to change the subject. "He's at my house."

"Your house?!" Taka repeated, voicing everyone's shock. Fuji suddenly felt a hand on his arm, and opened his eyes to look up Eiji's concerned expression.

"Did something happen?"

"He was sick," Fuji answered. "His parents are in America, and he ended up at my house."

He could tell his friends were not satisfied with his answer, but Fuji closed his eyes. "If you want the whole story you'll have to ask him yourself."

***

Back at the Fuji residence, Ryoma miserably dragged himself up the stairs and onto Fuji's bed. Natsumi had left a note for him on the pillow.

_Please make yourself at home! Stay hydrated and don't overestimate your strength. Syuusuke left some clothes out for you if you want to take a shower. If you need anything don't hesitate to call Syuusuke or me (the numbers are on the side of fridge). _

The shower sounded like a good idea, and Ryoma spent almost a half hour standing under the warm water. He felt a lot better once he got out, but scowled when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He still looked pale and tired. Fragile. No wonder everyone was fussing over him.

As he rolled up the sleeves of Fuji's sweater, he wondered whether he should call his parents. His cell phone was still dead, and if they were trying to get a hold of him...

He figured if something was truly wrong, they could find a way. For now, he would be selfish. He needed time to himself. To think.

Ryoma wandered onto to the porch, enjoying the fresh air. The garden was pretty and well-kept. He remembered having a garden in America, once. But after Nanako's diagnosis it had been so much work...

He wondered what Fuji was doing. Or Tezuka. He imagined Horio's tantrum as the other boy realized he was absent.

"So close to Nationals!" he probably screeched. "Echizen is so irresponsible!"

Ryoma let his thoughts drift to the National tournament the upcoming weekend. His team was reasonably strong. They'd battled an unfair amount of injuries, but if luck was on their side they could get to the semifinals, where they would most likely be crushed by Hyotei.

Monkey King. He had a vague thought he should call the other boy, let him know he hadn't died. Though he couldn't call now, during school.

School. He would go tomorrow, even if he had to beg. Fuji wouldn't like it, but then again, Fuji didn't seem to like any of his decisions.

Decisions. Captaincy? Surgery.

Ryoma let his thoughts get more and more abstract, and felt himself drift off...

***

He was awoken by Fuji calling out his name, loudly and worriedly and very very _annoyingly. _Fuji appeared a second later on the porch, and Ryoma groaned and sat up.

"I was asleep," he said crossly. "I didn't run off."

"Sorry," Fuji said, though he looked more relieved than apologetic.

Ryoma frowned, not liking Fuji's reaction. "Did you expect me to go somewhere?"

"Yes," Fuji said bluntly, sitting down next to Ryoma. "Want lunch?"

He felt his bad mood return, along with that stupid headache. "You don't trust me at all, Fuji-senpai."

"You don't trust _me._"

"That's not true!" Ryoma didn't know why Fuji was so infuriating; he just _was. _

"You said so, this morning," Fuji said tonelessly.

"It's because I wasn't thinking!" Ryoma snapped. "If I didn't trust you _I wouldn't be here!_ You're so _stupid_." He flopped back down on the porch, wishing he hadn't raised his voice. His head hurt.

A second later Ryoma chanced a glance at Fuji, and decided that it had been worth it. The worry and hurt were gone, replaced by a familiar smile. Fuji looked a lot less annoying, that way.

"Saa...Echizen...I think we should have Tezuka over for lunch."

"...you're still annoying, Fuji-senpai."

***


	7. in which yuuta reappears

Ryoma fell asleep again when Fuji left. He supposed his body had to replenish the blood cells it had lost, but he was nonetheless rather annoyed at himself. The doorbell woke him up a couple hours later, and he lurched to his feet to go answer it.

"Oh," he said, suddenly realizing where he was. Fuji was at his desk, but turned around when he heard Ryoma.

"Good timing," he said cheerfully. "Dinner's in about a half hour."

"Aren't you going to answer it?" Ryoma asked sleepily, as the doorbell rang again.

"No it's just Yuuta," Fuji said, looking immensely pleased with himself. "He's locked out."

"Um," Ryoma said, wondering if he was missing something. "Maybe you should let him in."

"It's more fun to make him call me," Fuji explained. "He never talks to me otherwise." As if on cue, the phone rang. Fuji said hello, then frowned for a long moment. Eventually he pouted and handed the phone to Ryoma, who answered it uncertainly.

_"Hello, Echizen_," Yuuta said, sounding exasperated. "_Since Syuu is being annoying, will you please open the door for me?_"

Ryoma glanced at Fuji, who looked a little put out. "Cheater," Fuji muttered, turning back to his desk.

"Um...I'll be down in a moment," Ryoma said. He hadn't actually seen Yuuta yet, but the other boy obviously knew he was there. Ryoma had been in his house for almost two days, now.

"I'll come with," Fuji said absently.

Ryoma blushed, knowing Fuji had seen him stumble. It was only because he'd gotten up too quickly, but it wasn't like he would risk an argument. He'd had enough headaches for the day.

"The offer still stands," Fuji said, smiling up from a few stairs ahead.

"What offer?"

"I could carry you," Fuji said cheerfully.

"Yadda!"

They eventually made it to the bottom, Fuji swinging open the door with apparent amusement.

"Jerk," Yuuta muttered, pushing by his brother. "Ah...hello, Echizen."

"So rude, making our sick guest come answer the door," Fuji admonished. Yuuta ignored him, taking off his shoes and setting down his tennis bag.

"How are you feeling, Echizen?" he asked, straightening up.

"Well enough to beat you," Ryoma said, smirking at the other boy. He liked Yuuta. He was much easier to figure out than his brother, and almost as much fun to play.

"I could crush you any day, lefty," Yuuta retorted. "You get my e-mail?"

Ryoma nodded, following Yuuta into the kitchen. Fuji apologized and went back upstairs, mentioning a review packet he wanted to finish before dinner.

"Fuji-senpai talked to Kuroda," Ryoma said, settling down in one of the chairs. "He says it went well."

It took Yuuta awhile to figure that out. "You mean Syuusuke?"

"Hai, Fuji-senpai."

"Don't call us both that," Yuuta muttered. "That's annoying."

"So is Fuji-senpai," Ryoma said, smirking.

"If you're talking about Syuusuke, I completely agree," Yuuta said. "If you're talking about me, say 'Yuuta', alright?"

"And you get to call me Ryoma?"

Yuuta shrugged. "Either one is fine. Though I'd like to see Syuusuke's face if I start calling you Ryoma."

"Do it," Ryoma said immediately. He felt he and Yuuta had something in common, in the way Fuji annoyed them. Revenge was sweet, even in little ways.

"So Tezuka is captain and everyone is happy," Yuuta said next. "What's up with you, Ryoma-kun?"

"You know about Nanako," Ryoma guessed. He didn't really want to talk about it, but Yuuta deserved the whole story. "And you know...I was sick, and Fuji-senpai came to the airport and kind of...rescued me."

"Carried you home," Yuuta clarified, his amusement making him sound eerily like his brother.

"Whatever," Ryoma said. "My parents aren't still in Amerca. I guess I'm staying here until your mom lets me go home."

"Ha," Yuuta said. "That's never going to happen. Kaasan's obsessed with you. She thinks you're adorable."

Ryoma was not amused. "You act too much like Fuji-senpai."

"Shut up, Ryoma."

***

By the time Ryoma picked up his chopsticks, his worry about Fuji's family had disappeared. They didn't go out of their way to include him in conversation, but they didn't seem at all bothered he was there. Hajime was still at work and Yumiko hadn't stopped in, but Yuuta was pleased that Fuji had found someone else to tease.

"Are you sure the food is fine, Echizen?" Natsumi kept asking. She reminded him of both Eiji and Oishi - cheerful and energetic, but also prone to fussing over various aspects of the household.

"It's delicious," Ryoma said. "Fuji-senpai, stop messing with my rice!"

"Saa...technically it's _our_rice," Fuji said. "I didn't get any, and it's between our plates."

"It's Ryoma's," Yuuta corrected. "He's sick."

"I'm not _sick._"

"Yes you are," Fuji and Yuuta said in unison. They smirked at each other, and Ryoma found that to be entirely creepy.

"Just a slight fever," Natsumi said amusedly. "Though I'd like for you to stay home from school tomorrow."

Ryoma didn't have the heart to argue with her. It would be like yelling at Eiji, and that hadn't been fun at all. But he did need to get to practice sometime that week, and his tennis stuff was still at his house...

"I should really go home," he said absently. "Just to pick up a few things," he added, seeing Natsumi's face.

"Oh, good," she said, unable to hide her relief.

"Yes, that's very good. Though I'm afraid I have some paperwork to take care of, and - "

"I'm not busy," Fuji cut in. "We can go after dinner."

***

An hour later, Ryoma swung himself onto the back of Fuji's bike, quickly grabbing the other boy's shoulders to steady himself. He was used to hitching rides from Momoshiro, who was a good deal taller and wider through the torso.

"Alright?"

"Hai," Ryoma said, quickly adjusting. "You know where to go?"

"I think I remember," Fuji said. "Just tell me when to turn."

They took off in the direction of his house, and Ryoma quickly discovered the other major difference between Fuji and Momo. Fuji didn't seem to apply the brakes. Ever.

"Are you trying kill us?!" he yelled, as the fourth intersection flew by. He felt Fuji laugh and shake his head, but they didn't slow down.

The scenery was making him dizzy, so Ryoma closed his eyes and hooked his arms more securely around Fuji's shoulders. If was honest with himself, the fresh air was welcome. And despite the fact they were going twice as fast as a sane person would go, Fuji did seem to have good control of the bike.

He reversed this thought as Fuji threw on the brakes, coming to a very sudden stop. Ryoma stumbled off and glared at the older boy, who only laughed as he leaned the bike against the porch.

"Yuuta doesn't seem to like it either. Though you're much lighter than him - we go even faster."

"Yadda!" Ryoma snapped, unlocking his front door. He was tempted to slam it on Fuji's face, but suddenly had visions of Fuji getting in through the windows. Ugh.

Ryoma stepped into the front hall, shuddering as he took in the dark and empty feeling. Fuji might be annoying, but he was suddenly very glad the other boy was with him.

***

Fuji took off his shoes and put them next to Ryoma's, feeling his heart twist a little as Ryoma called out to the empty house.

"Tadaima!" He seemed to remember Fuji was there, and faltered. "Habit. Sorry. Um...don't trip on the mail."

Ryoma flicked on the light, and Fuji caught sight of he very large and very colorful pile of mail on the floor. There was also a suspicious amount of glitter and something that smelled strongly of rotting fruit.

"Get well packages," Ryoma explained. He picked out a few of the plainer-looking envelopes and left the rest on the hall table. "I wish they would stop sending food. I don't have time to mail everything on."

"And your homework," Fuji said, picking up one of the larger envelopes. He was highly amused by the note on the front.

_Echizen! Where are you? The team needs you! I need you! Come back or there will be consequences!_

"Horio," Ryoma said, making his distaste clear. "Ugh. I'll have to thank him."

"Saa...I remember him," Fuji said, laughing at Ryoma's expression. "He should have five years of tennis experience by now. Does it show?"

"No," Ryoma said bluntly, heading to the living room. "Hm...I need my textbooks for finals."

"Clearly you don't study much," Fuji said, watching Ryoma pick through a pile of magazines.

"Hold this," Ryoma retorted, shoving his math text in Fuji's direction. "And don't talk."

He eventually found his science book under the couch, straightened up the room and went upstairs.

"I didn't think your room would be this clean," Fuji remarked, sitting on the bed. There was very little on the floor, and the walls were blank. It seemed odd. He watched Ryoma squirm, and wondered...

"I brought a lot of stuff to America," Ryoma suddenly said. "My parents are staying in an apartment there."

Fuji was surprised Ryoma had volunteered this information, and Ryoma noticed this and scowled.

"You should know," he said, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm living in your house, anyway." He got up abruptly and went to the closet, but Fuji felt pleased, somehow. It was maybe the first time Ryoma had willingly shared something so personal.

"Fuji-senpai, is that blue duffel bag still on my dresser?" Ryoma called back.

"Hmm...yes," Fuji said, picking it up. He caught sight of the practice schedule underneath. "Saa...Echizen does your team hate you? We don't even run that - "

"I told you not to talk," Ryoma said, throwing a sweatshirt in Fuji's general direction. Fuji only smirked and put the sweatshirt in the bag, along with the two tennis rackets that made their way out of the closet.

"Do you think that's enough?" Ryoma said absently, adding his school uniform.

"Maybe," Fuji said, but he doubted it. "When are your parents getting back?"

"Not until...not until graduation. At least."

Fuji didn't like it. "You're not staying here until they're back," he pointed out. "My mother won't let you. _I_won't let you."

Ryoma glared but continued packing, and Fuji turned to study the bulletin board.

"Is this from Tezuka?" he asked, pointing to a letter near the top.

"Fuji-senpai, can you read?" Ryoma said, but he didn't sound very annoyed. "Mm, he sent that after the district tournament."

"I remember. You played Kirihara."

"6-1," Ryoma said proudly. "He's plays a bit like Kaidoh-senpai, but not nearly as good."

Fuji couldn't resist smiling. He'd missed that side of Ryoma - the ambition, the attitude, the confidence.

"Done," Ryoma announced. He took one last look over his room and turned off the light, trying not to think of how long he would be gone.

***

They went downstairs, Fuji pausing to read the sign posted on the opposite door. Several notes had been added to it, some in English and some in Japanese. He read a section from the middle, both confused and curious.

_No tennis equipment beyond this point!_

_Please wash hands and change clothes before eating._

_someone buy ponta! and oneechan wants chocolate._

_obasan - don't worry will be back before noon. where is everyone?_

_LEAVE TENNIS SHOES OUTSIDE!!!_

_Dinner is in the fridge don't eat all of it_

_RYO! DO NOT ENTER THIS ROOM WITH YOUR SCHOOL BAG!_

_seishounen - spiky haired friend stopped by while you were asleep_

_i'm going out with some people after practice._

_Ryoma - we are sorry to take off so suddenly. Call when you wake up._

"Come on," Ryoma interrupted, tugging on the other boy's wrist. "It's getting dark."

"Where does that door go to?" Fuji asked.

"Don't go in there," Ryoma said immediately. "It's creepy."

"Why?"

"Fuji-senpai," Ryoma said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. "Let's go."

"But what is it?"

Ryoma sighed. He knew from experience that it was impossible to deny Fuji anything. "It's my kitchen, alright?"

Fuji tried not to laugh, but it was difficult. "Why is it creepy?"

"It just is," Ryoma said, shuddering. "Though I guess I should throw out the food...ugh, come on." He pushed open the door, and Fuji immediately smelled disinfectant and dust.

The room didn't have very many windows, but other than that it seemed like a normal kitchen. But as his eyes adjusted, a few strange additions came into focus. There were surgical masks dangling from one of the cabinets, syringes laid out next to the sink, and a pile of shiny dark hair on the counter.

"Nanako's," Ryoma said shortly, following Fuji's gaze. "She cut it off once chemo started."

"I can see why it's creepy," Fuji said softly. It was a room for a sick person. For a dying person.

"That's not creepy," Ryoma said suddenly. "I'm used to that."

"Oh?"

Ryoma hesitated, then nodded to the corner of the room. Fuji looked quizzically back at the younger boy, seeing nothing but a stainless steel refrigerator.

"The refrigerator?"

Ryoma nodded, a light blush appearing on his cheeks. "It's...it's those stupid American horror movies."

"Horror movies?" Fuji echoed, too perplexed to laugh. He couldn't fathom why someone would be afraid of a food container. He'd been terrified of escalators as a child, but that made at least a little sense. "Explain."

"Um...they always have someone looking through the refrigerator. At night. Then when they shut the refrigerator there's a _thing_standing behind them. And it grabs them and kills them."

"Really?"

"I know, it's stupid - "

"No it's not," Fuji said, suddenly smiling. "I'll watch out for _things_while we clean out your fridge."

"Um...thanks," Ryoma said. He really should have been more suspicious, but he was very tired and wanted to go home. Well, home to Fuji's house.

Fuji only smiled even wider.

"Your turn," Ryoma said, cautiously sniffing a carton of milk. Ew.

"What do you mean, my turn?" Fuji said, taking the milk and pouring it down the sink.

"Your turn to tell a story," Ryoma clarified. "It's only fair."

"Saa...when he was three, Yuuta got his tongue frozen to a lamppost. The fire department even came to help rip them apart."

"...that's disgusting, but that has nothing to do with you."

"Well, I was the one who convinced him it was a good idea," Fuji said, sounding oddly proud. Ryoma rolled his eyes, finished moving the perishable foods to the freezer, and decided he was done.

"Let's go, Fuji-senpai."

No answer.

"Fuji-senpai?" he asked, letting the fridge swing shut. The room was dark, now that the sun had gone down. Maybe Fuji had already gone outside.

Ryoma shuddered, noticing the new shadows in the room. He really hated the kitchen, but he knew that was stupid. He forced himself to breath slowly and evenly as he turned to go...

...but suddenly shrieked as he felt something pulling him back. He stumbled against the counter, heart racing because _he had to get away..._but just then a soft, familiar laugh echoed in his ear.

"Syuusuke!" he yelled, spinning around. He could just barely make out the older boy leaning against the counter. Hearing his given name, his features shifted from amusement to shock.

Ryoma flushed, realizing what he had just said. "I'm sorry, Fuji-senpai. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"Saa...I don't mind," Fuji said. "Ryoma," he added, drawing out the word.

"I still hate you," Ryoma said bluntly.

Fuji only laughed, pushing the other boy towards the door. "But I didn't kill you," he pointed out.

"I'll kill _you_," Ryoma muttered. "For being so annoying."

"But then my family wouldn't like you anymore."

"Yuuta would," Ryoma said. Fuji was about to respond, but Ryoma suddenly dropped his duffel and scrambled down the steps.

"Kaidoh-senpai!"

Aaa. Fuji thought Kaidoh was very amusing, adjusting his running route like that. And pretending to be greatly inconvenienced at the interruption - Fuji didn't miss the split second of relief that appeared when he noticed Ryoma. The tensai smiled and crossed the lawn to join the conversation.

"You have Karupin? My cat?"

"Hai."

"And she's didn't give you any trouble?" Ryoma asked anxiously. "She's usually very well-behaved, but I wasn't sure - "

"She was fine," Kaidoh said shortly. "Do you want her back?"

"Please! Except...hang on a second." He turned at Fuji hopefully. "Can she come stay at your house? I don't want her to be alone."

"I'll have to check," Fuji answered. "But I know Yumiko always wanted a cat."

Ryoma smiled widely. Karupin was close enough to family, for him.

"Kaidoh, I'll let you know at school this week," Fuji said, hoping for Ryoma's sake the answer would be yes. It made him happy, to see Ryoma smile like that.

Kaidoh grunted in response, feigning disinterest as he jogged away.

"Thank you, Kaidoh-senpai!" Ryoma called after him.

They walked back to the house and sorted out the bike situation. It was a little bit more difficult with Ryoma's luggage, but he was able to situate everything on his back. They turned smoothly onto the street, and Ryoma immediately resumed his death-grip around Fuji's torso.

"I can feel your heartbeat," Fuji said, amused.

"Che," Ryoma said, pouting. "I don't like you scaring me."

They coasted to a stop at the first corner, and Ryoma wondered if Fuji had taken his words to heart.

"I'm not going to fall off," he said. "You can go faster, if you want." Really, he didn't mind the bike so much. Or Fuji, as long as he wasn't too annoying.

"It's pretty out tonight, ne?" Fuji said, but he didn't pedal any faster. "If you fell off, it would ruin it."

Ryoma hid a smile against Fuji's shoulder and didn't bother to let go. Fuji was warm and calm and _there,_the twilight was beautiful, and he was content.

"I won't fall off," he promised, stifling a yawn. "Not until we get home."

Home. He really didn't mind the word so much, anymore.

***


	8. in which ryoma shows fuji higuma otoshi

so, er...roadtrip? instead of packing, i wrote another chapter! i broke 50 reviews today and it made me happy/motivated. thanks guys. thfourteenth, you made me smile.

tsub4ki, i like you. i followed your suggestion about the thesarus and actually found some words that were useful...and then "titilate".

TITILATE! i mean COME ON! in case you were wondering, it means to excite pleasurably or arouse by stimulation.

"Ryoma," Fuji said, titilated. "You seem to be very glad that word won't actually show up in the story."

* * *

Fuji's house was noisy, but Ryoma didn't mind it one bit. He liked the sound of the garage door as Hajime came home from work, and the classical music Natsumi played as she finished her paperwork. He also liked the creak of the stairs as Yuuta went to his room, and even the the sound of the bickering between Yuuta and his brother. It was nice, to not be in an empty house anymore.

With this thought in mind, Ryoma stretched out on the futon and began flipping through his homework and his mail. His good mood dimmed slightly as he opened a note from his science teacher. _Please meet with me to discuss Ryoma's recent behavior._

Ugh, he'd only been sleeping. That wasn't a distraction to anyone, and his grade hadn't slipped at all in the past month. Maybe Ryuzaki would talk to her. Or Fuji's parents.

"Saa...Ryoma, what are you doing on my bed?"

Ryoma looked up at Fuji, slightly confused. Then he remembered their sleeping arrangements from the past two nights.

"That's technically your bed, Fuji-senpai," he pointed out.

"You liked it well enough the last two nights."

Ryoma just shook his head and went back to his mail. "I was sick. Now I'm better."

"You're the guest," Fuji tried.

"You're the host."

"Well, if you insist..." Fuji said, but he didn't sound very resigned. Ryoma looked up and narrowed his eyes. Before he could react, Fuji lifted him up and tossed him onto the mattress.

"Yadda!" Ryoma yelled, glaring at Fuji. Fuji looked far too pleased with himself, but Ryoma quickly got off the bed and back onto the futon.

"Stop treating me like a child," he said, watching Fuji warily.

Fuji only smiled. "I'll do it again. You're not very heavy."

Ryoma didn't doubt it. He resigned himself to his fate, squirming out of Fuji's reach and sitting gingerly on the bed.

"There," Fuji said, dropping his schoolbag next to him. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Ryoma pointedly didn't answer and went back to the mail. He considered moving to the futon again when Fuji went to the bathroom, but thought better of it. Fuji didn't make idle threats.

He continued sorting through backpack and a business envelope immediately caught his attention. The handwriting was somewhat familiar, all the kanji perfectly formed. Ryoma ignored his math homework and ripped it open curiously.

What the hell?

It looked to be some kind of voucher, entitling him to unlimited use of a private plane out of Tokyo Airport. Anytime, any destination. The only restriction being thirty minutes advance notice.

Well, that would have been nice. He hated airport security, he hated aisle seats and window seats and stupid flight attendants and airplanes in general...but this was obviously some sort of joke. He was about to put it in the trash pile when the last line registered.

_Thank you for your valued patronage of the Atobe Corporation._

Atobe Corporation. Monkey King.

Oh, _fuc_k.

"Good," Fuji said, cheerfully reentering the room. "You stayed where you were supposed to."

"Hm?" He didn't know what Atobe was _thinking_, honestly. He knew the family was rich, but were they this generous? Was Atobe expecting something in return? It was too much...he couldn't accept it, of course, but he had to call Monkey King and figure out -

"Ryoma? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Ryoma said, coming back to his senses. He hastily shoved the letter back in his backpack, deciding he would deal with it later. He had the feeling Fuji didn't like Atobe very much and thought it would be best to keep it to himself. At least until he could talk to Atobe.

***

The next morning, Ryoma woke up feeling almost one hundred percent better. His muscles were still a tiny bit weak, but his head no longer hurt and his fever was gone. He pulled on his sweats and joined Fuji for breakfast, planning to stay home as he had promised Natsumi.

"Good morning," Fuji said cheerfully. "Kaasan says you can check in with your team, if you like."

"Hn," Ryoma said, stifling a yawn. Fuji pushed an extra plate in his direction, amused at his sleepiness.

"I'm leaving in twenty minutes, if you want a ride."

That was enough time for Ryoma to actually wake up, finish eating and gather his tennis equipment. They took off in the direction of the middle school, and Fuji got off the bike to follow Ryoma instead of continuing on. Ryoma sighed and was about to argue, but his team suddenly noticed his prescence.

"Buchou!" Katsuo said, tackling his captain in an enthusiastic hug. "We missed you!"

Ryoma said hello and peeled the other boy off, knowing Fuji was laughing at him from the bleachers. Tezuka had taught him a lot, but Ryoma wished he had covered intimidation techniques. Even Eiji never glomped Tezuka, but his regulars did it at least once a week. Maybe it was because he was short.

"I missed you all too, I'm not dead, and so on," Ryoma deadpanned. "Have you guys actually been practicing?"

"Of course!" Horio said indignantly. "The semifinals are only four days away!"

"Hn. Start your warm up." Ryoma looked around for Ryuzaki, but she didn't seem to be at the courts yet. He wondered whether he should check the clubhouse, then suddenly noticed everyone was still standing around. The hell?

"I'll double your laps if you don't get moving," he threatened.

"Buchou, is that...is that Fuji-senpai?" Kachiro said, and Ryoma inwardly groaned. "Aaa...he's so amazing!"

"It's not him," Ryoma said flatly. He had always admired his upperclassmen, but he didn't remember being so _annoying _about it.

"Are you sure, Echizen?" Horio said, staring flat-out in Fuji's direction. "Because it looks an awfully lot like him."

"Start your warm up," Ryoma repeated, this time letting his annoyance show. The regulars immediately took off, making him feel slightly better. He then directed the nonregulars to set up cones and start a couple drills.

"I'm flattered to be such a source of inspiration," Fuji said, coming over to watch.

"Go to practice."

"I don't technically _have _practice. Kuroda accepted the apology, but he wants us to stay away."

"Tezuka-buchou will still make you run laps," Ryoma pointed out, but it had no effect. Fuji leaned against the fence and watched as the regulars started their stretching. Ryoma was annoyed that they sat down so close, and doubly annoyed to see nonregulars also began drifting over.

"That's Fuji Syuusuke, one of the best singles players Seigaku has ever seen," Horio was telling, enormously pleased to have everyone's attention. "He's even beaten buchou!"

"I've never beaten him," Fuji cut in, before Ryoma could protest. "It was 4-3 when we were forced to stop playing."

"I was making a comeback," Ryoma reminded him.

"Saa...that's right. He'd already broken one of my counters."

"_You're_ the one with the counters?" said a pink-faced freshmen, clearly in awe.

"You've told them about me?" Fuji asked, amused.

"No."

"Yes, yes he did!" the freshmen burst out excitedly. "He's even taught Kachiro-senpai Higuma Otoshi. But he says it's not nearly as good as - "

"Alright, alright, you're done stretching for today," Ryoma cut in. "I want to see practice matches so I can finalize the lineup for this weekend. Go!"

The regulars reluctantly left, Ryoma following them to organize the pairings. Fuji was amused to to see most of the underclassmen still remained, sneaking glances at him as they clumsily bounced balls on their rackets.

"Saa...how is the tennis club here?" he asked the group.

"Good," a few of them said nervously.

"The best," a more confident redhead told him. "I was planning to join the track club but here is much better."

"Buchou is strict but he knows what he's doing," someone else said, proudly. Fuji watched as the middle schoolers resumed whispering among themselves, then apparently came to some sort of a consensus.

"Fuji-senpai, can you tell us what buchou like as a freshmen?"

Fuji laughed at the question, remembering how Ryoma himself had wanted to know about Tezuka. "Well...he was very short, very cocky and very good at tennis." He told them the story of Ryoma first entering the ranking matches, and they listened with rapt attention.

"Sugoi!"

"Buchou was so good, even as a freshmen!"

"I'd be happy if I score even one point off of him," the redhead said, admiringly.

"Try hitting a lob over his head," Fuji advised. "He's still pretty short."

"I heard that, Fuji-senpai!" Ryoma said, coming back over. He crossed his arms, but the underclassmen were too excited by their visitor to notice. "Can you _please_ go somewhere else?"

"But they're so cute!" Fuji said, nonetheless getting to his feet. He lowered his voice and smirked. "And they're in love with you!"

"Buchou! Play a match with Fuji-senpai, please?"

"Please please please! We want to see it!"

"That's a great idea," Horio said, sidling over. "You can show us some new techniques for nationals."

Fuji turned, smiling apologetically. "Not today, I think. Ryoma's been sick recently and needs to recover for this weekend."

Everyone looked disappointed - even Ryoma, for a quick moment.

"You can all see Fuji-senpai during the tournament," Ryoma said. "All of the old regulars are coming to watch."

"Amazing! I want to see Kaidoh-senpai again!"

"Maybe we can even see Echizen-buchou's buchou!"

"Go practice!"

***

Fuji took Ryoma home again after that, the younger boy worn out from his practice. Summer and Nationals were both quickly approaching, and his visit hadn't really alleviated any of the excitement.

"I really didn't think they'd know who I was," Fuji said, laughing as he got onto the bike. "Though maybe if you hadn't mentioned me so many t - "

"Don't flatter yourself, Fuji-senpai. I was only telling him about your counters."

"Did he actually learn Higuma Otoshi?" Fuji asked, curious.

"No," Ryoma said. "I showed it to him maybe a hundred times, but he can never get the ball back over the net." He loosened his grip on the other boy's shoulders, getting more comfortable with Fuji's preferred speed.

"Hm...I'd like to see your version."

"Well," Ryoma said, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. "We don't have practice after school because parent-teacher conferences are starting..."

"Just once," Fuji said, relenting. "You can come to my practice, but you have to sit and _watch_ the rest of it." They pulled up in front of his house, and Ryoma jumped off.

"I'll see you after school, Fuji-senpai."

"What happened to Syuusuke?" Fuji said suddenly.

Ryoma turned around. "Huh?"

"You used my given name yesterday," he reminded the other boy, frowning. "I'd rather be called that than Fuji-senpai."

"...it's too weird."

"You say 'Yuuta' now," he said. Ryoma didn't miss the hint of jealousy that crept into his voice. It turned in stubbornness as Fuji got off the bike and crossed his arms.

"I won't go to school until you say a proper goodbye."

Ryoma sighed, knowing Fuji was perfectly capable of staying there the entire day. "Fine. I'll see you after school, _Syuusuke._"

"Ja ne, Ryoma!" Fuji smiled widely and pedaled off, and Ryoma turned back to the house, contemplating. Only his parents, Nanako, and occasionally Momoshiro called him by his given name.

He liked the way Fuji said it best.

***

Ryoma finished his homework and checked his recharged cellphone for messages. Nothing important. Momo worrying, again. He saw Atobe had called but not left a message, and he thought about catching the train to Hyotei. Atobe would be in school, right now, but this weekend would be a good time.

But he would undoubtedly have to tell Fuji where he was going, and he still wasn't sure how to go about that. Fuji didn't like Atobe, that much was clear. Ryoma wondered if the animosity stemmed from the match a few years ago, when Atobe had pushed Tezuka into injuring his arm. Fuji could hold grudges for a long time, but there had to be something more.

Ryoma passed the afternoon composing a letter to Nanako, informing her of his new living situation, the hot weather, the insane speed Fuji reached on his bike, his science teacher - everything, really. He knew Nanako needed time to kill in the hospital, and he missed her.

He missed the healthy Nanako even more. They had grown especially close over the past year, and the age difference seemed to matter less and less as Ryoma approached high school. The relapse seemed so unfair...to both of them.

He was pulled out of his dark mood as Fuji reappeared. He was getting better at understanding the other boy, and could tell Fuji was genuinely happy to see him.

"Let's go," Fuji said, dropping his school bag onto a chair. "And only bring _one _racket, because you're only going to show me your Higuma Otoshi _once._"

"Hai," Ryoma said, smirking. "The rest of the time I'll be watching you run your laps. One thousand for skipping."

Fuji immediately frowned. "That's not funny, Ryoma."

"_Two_ thousand, if he's in a really bad mood," Ryoma continued, following Fuji outside. "You shouldn't piss buchou off, you know."

They got on the bike and headed to the street courts where the other regulars were gathering. Fuji slowed down as they neared their destination, and Ryoma pulled sharply on the other boy's hair. "I won't show you Higuma Otoshi if you're late."

"Fine, fine," Fuji said, pulling up next to the curb. "I'd have to run more laps anyway." He still took his time locking up his bike, and Ryoma was fed up. He grabbed Fuji's sleeve and pulled him across the courts, stopping when they reached Tezuka. Tezuka looked up, surprised to see Fuji and even more surprised to see Ryoma.

"Buchou," Ryoma immediately began. "Fuji-senpai is sorry for skipping out on your practice this morning, because even though it is an unofficial practice he still knows it's important to the team. Ne, Fuji-senpai?"

Fuji pointedly ignored him.

"Ne, _Syuusuke?_" Ryoma asked, tugging on the sleeve.

"He's right," Fuji said cheerfully. "But I got to meet the most _adorable_ little first years, and they absolutely _idolize_ their captain, just like - "

"Fuji, twenty laps."

"Buchou!" Ryoma said, annoyed. "He completely ruined my practice, can't you give him a better punishment?"

"Would you like to run laps with him?" Tezuka said, sounding ever so slightly amused. Ryoma made a face, but was somewhat happy to realize that Tezuka would be able to assign anyone laps to anyone in the tennis club next year. As captain - officially.

"Ochibi!" Eiji suddenly shrieked, latching onto the middle schooler. "It's so good to see you!"

"You too, Eiji-senpai."

"You look so much healthier," Oishi noted. "Are you still staying at Fuji's house?"

"You know?" Ryoma said, but he wasn't surprised or upset. He knew Fuji wouldn't give away anything personal, not without his permission. "Hai, I'll be there until my parents - "

He was cut off as Momoshiro arrived, pulling the younger boy into a headlock.

"Oi, it's nice to see you, Echizen," he said nonchalantly. He suddenly tightened his grip, and Ryoma yelped in pain.

"You didn't return any of my calls!"

"Gomen, gomen!"

"I was worried, you brat!" He released his friend abruptly. "But you're forgiven."

"That hurt, Momo-senpai," Ryoma said, glaring. He suddenly tilted his head, his expression changing from irritation to excitement. "Ne, want to play a match?"

"And by 'a match', he means 'one serve'," Fuji interrupted, panting slightly as he finished his laps. "You did not come here to play tennis, Ryoma."

"You should listen to Fuji-senpai," Momo advised.

Ryoma stuck out his tongue in response. "You're just glad 'cause you don't have to lose."

With Tezuka's permission, they found an open court and began lightly hitting back and forth, warming up their muscles.

"What's got you so interested, Fuji?" Taka wanted to know, noticing the tensai had stopped stretching to watch them. "Are you still worried about Echizen?"

Fuji shook his head. "Saa...he's going to show me Higuma Otoshi."

"Higuma Otoshi?" Eiji exclaimed, bounding over to get a closer look. "Against Momo's Dunk Smash?!"

"I had no idea he had any knowledge of this technique," Inui said.

"Fsshhhh."

"Ready?" Ryoma called out, casting a glance towards Fuji. They caught gazes, Fuji struck by how happy Ryoma looked in that moment. Ryoma really did love the courts, and Fuji loved to see him there.

"Show it to me," he called back. The challenge hung in the air until they heard the crack of Momoshiro's Dunk Smash.

Ryoma fell into the posture smoothly, and a split second later the ball was soaring through the air. It landed, four inches away from the baseline. Momoshiro turned to his opponent, half-expecting Fuji Syuusuke to be standing there. Of course it wasn't. But how had Ryoma...?

"A perfect replica," Inui said, filling the astonished silence. "Apart from the fact Echizen spins his body and the ball in opposite directions. Fuji, have you been coaching him at all?"

"No," Fuji answered, looking back at Ryoma. They way he was feeling...it almost felt like they had played a game together...

"Mada mada dane, Fuji-senpai," Ryoma said, smirking.

Fuji pulled himself back to the present, shaking his head. "You learned it from watching me last week, ne? I should know better than to show you my counters."

"Fujiko, show him your twist serve!" Eiji cut in suddenly. "You two should play doubles, the way you know each other's techniques."

"Please consider it," Tezuka said suddenly, surprising everyone.

"Twist serve?" Ryoma said, ignoring Eiji's suggestion. He didn't play doubles. Ever. Not even with Fuji. "I want to see..." he said, but then trailed off, eyes widening.

The rest of the regulars turned to see what had caught his attention, and saw about twenty high schoolers filing onto the courts. Twenty very familiar high schoolers, all dressed in purple and white.

Hyotei.

"Aw, hell!" Momoshiro said. "Why are they here?

"Monkey King!" Ryoma yelled out, a touch of anger in his voice. A few of the Hyotei players turned around at the noise, but Atobe was still too far away to hear.

"Echizen, really, they aren't disturbing our practice," Momoshiro said, reaching out to stop the other boy.

"It's not that," Ryoma muttered angrily, brushing by Momoshiro. "Atobe and I have something to discuss."

***

i told you atobe would show up...er...he's there, but he didn't say nothing. i like to cut my chapters off at 3,000 words and i wanted to get this posted. enjoy it anyway, because this chapter is somehow very amusing to me (titilating!)

and could this be the first time i didn't fuck up the alerts system by reposting and generally failling? YES, IT'S A FIRST!


	9. in which yamada is out to get ryoma, etc

in wyoming if any cares to know/offer sympathy. no offense so anyone to lives here, but it's probably the boringest state i've ever been in.

i love my reviewers soooooo much. thfourteenth, get out of your corner! also, fuji and ryoma playing doubles...so many possibilties. but before that, there has to be a big angsty arc where ryoma goes back to amerca...i could make a sequel about them in high school, maybe?

read::::::!

***

"Monkey King!" Ryoma called out again. This time Atobe turned around, eyes widening slightly in surprise before he recovered.

"I don't answer to that despicable nickname," he said haughtily, turning back to Kabaji. "As I was saying - "

He was interrupted by the crack of a tennis racket, the ball grazing his cheek as it shot by. Atobe turned to see Ryoma glaring at him, another ball balanced on his racket. His team moved to stop him, but Atobe shook his head.

"You could kill someone with that serve," he said nonchalantly, studying Ryoma closely. He looked...irritated. But not as tired or sick as he had the week before, which was -

"Stop messing around," Ryoma said shortly, yanking Atobe towards the fence. Atobe looked ever so slightly surprised at his insistence, but straightened his uniform and tried to look dignified. Behind him, he could hear his team whispering like a bunch of middle school girls. _Honestly_.

"Is something the matter, brat?" he said, tilting his head curiously. "You know, if you had actually answered my calls, we could talk without getting both of our teams worked up."

Ryoma flicked his eyes towards the Hyotei and Seigaku sides of the court, noticing everyone was staring at them intensely. "Fine," he said, turning away. "I'll call you tonight."

"No," Atobe said quickly, grabbing Ryoma's sleeve. "You're upset about something, and I want to know why."

"You know why," Ryoma said icily, yanking his arm out of Atobe's grip. Atobe was struck by the intensity of his glare, but covered up his unease.

"Kindly enlighten me," he said, then remembered something. "Is this about the ticket I sent you the other day?"

"It wasn't a _ticket_," Ryoma snapped. "It was permission to use the Atobe Corporation's _private jet_. What were you_thinking_?"

***

"I wonder what they're talking about," Eiji said worriedly. He could see as well as anyone that Ryoma and Atobe looked ready to kill each other.

"50% the tension has a sexual basis," Inui cut in smoothly.

"I-Inui!" Eiji said, shocked. "Ochibi and Atobe?!"

"Not so chibi anymore, Eiji-senpai," Momoshiro said, smirking. "Though I thought him and that Sakuno girl would get together."

"Highly unlikely. Data suggests Echizen has never paid attention to her for longer than forty-two seconds."

Momo now looked slightly creeped out. "Since when do you keep track of personal data like that?" he demanded.

"Since Fuji Syuusuke got involved," Inui said intently. "The two most unpredictable players I've ever encountered, suddenly taking an interest in each other?"

The group looked to the opposite court, where Taka and Fuji were practicing their backhands. Fuji's expression was unreadable, but he was matching Taka's power.

"Taking an interest in each other?" Momo said, repeating Inui's observation. "You think Fuji-senpai and Echizen are...dating?"

Inui flipped back a page in his notebook. "Data suggests that is not true. However, Fuji addressed Echizen by his first name, with zero protests from Echizen. There is also the new living situation to take into account."

"I think they would be good together," Eiji said, serious for once.

Momo shrugged. "Don't you think Fuji is the type to...well, the type to play around?"

Eiji shook his head vehemently. "Not with Ochibi!" He frowned suddenly, glancing at Ryoma and Atobe across the courts. "But I wonder..."

***

"As I recall, I was thinking how much you hated airports," Atobe said mildly. "Does it really bother you that much?"

"I'm not a charity case!"

"I don't think that!"

"Then what do you want from me? Money? Fixed matches? Tezuka-buchou reinjured?!"

"No!" Atobe yelled, then realized they had caught the attention of the entire court. He lowered his voice before continuing. "I want you to accept my help."

"That's it?" Ryoma said, somewhat skeptical.

Atobe thought for a moment. "And play a match with me this summer."

"Usu."

"Don't hold back on me."

Ryoma glared, but this time it was more annoyed than angry. "Of course."

"And," Atobe said, serious once more. "I want you to transfer to Hyotei."

"Yadda!" Ryoma said, sounding disgusting by the very thought.

Atobe sighed dramatically. "Tezuka wouldn't allow it either." He twirled his racket contemplatively. "I respect you, Echizen. There's no ulterior motive."

Ryoma stared at him for a long moment before dropping his gaze to the court. "Thank you, Atobe-senpai."

"You're welcome, brat."

***

The rest of practice Ryoma alternated between discussing strategy with Tezuka and being interrogated by Eiji about what Atobe wanted. He didn't miss the way Fuji avoided him. When practice ended they got on the bike without talking, and Ryoma tried not to feel like he had done something wrong.

"Why don't you like Atobe-senpai?" he finally blurted out, not able to stand any more of the silence. He felt Fuji's shoulders tense, and wished he could take it back.

"I just don't," Fuji said flatly.

"That's not a good reason," Ryoma said. "If you would just - "

"I don't want to hear it, Ryoma."

Ryoma frowned. "I don't understand you, Fuji-senpai."

"Then don't try!" The tone was harsh and unexpected coming out of Fuji's mouth, and Ryoma flinched. Fuji must have felt it, but he said nothing.

They reached the house. Fuji wordlessly put the bike away, went upstairs to his room and shut the door. Ryoma stared open-mouthed after him, feeling like there was something between them he didn't quite understand.

"What happened?" Yuuta wanted to know, appearing on the landing. "Syuusuke's in a terrible mood."

"I-I don't know," Ryoma said. He really didn't, and it hurt.

***

Fuji didn't know either. He lay on his bed and stared listlessly at the ceiling until his phone rang for the third time. Figuring it might be important, he sighed, rolled over and answered it.

"Fujiko!"

"Eiji," he said, tiredly. "I'm really not in the mood - "

"Did you have a fight with Ochibi?"

Fuji sat up, startled. "How did you know that?"

"I guessed," Eiji said proudly. "You don't like Atobe very much, do you?"

"No," Fuji said slowly, still wondering how Eiji had known.

"You must have been jealous," Eiji continued matter-of-factly. "Inui says you're in love."

"In...love?" Fuji echoed. He laughed hollowly. "I don't think so."

"Data never lies!" Eiji said, a passable imitation of Inui. "Do you know when Ochibi's birthday is?"

"December 24," Fuji said. "Why?"

"What about his favorite food?"

Fuji sighed, hearing Eiji hum as he turned the page. "Eiji, what are you reading?"

"A gossip magazine," Eiji said nonchalantly. "You get three points for knowing his birthday, Fujiko."

"I know Tezuka's brithday, too," Fuji pointed out. "And yours, and Taka's, and - "

"You're no fun," Eiji said, pouting. "You have to take the whole quiz before you can tell for sure. Oh, I better tell you my real news before I forget."

"Real news?"

"We're all supposed to go to practice tomorrow morning. I mean, the official one. Kuroda has something to tell us."

"About the captainship?" Fuji said, feeling slightly better. At least he had done something right this week.

"I hope so," Eiji said. "I mean, he can't talk about tournaments or anything, considering he cancelled the rest of them. But you know, I've stopped being angry about that, because now we can go see Ochibi at the semifinals!" He sounded truly excited at the thought, and Fuji couldn't help but smile back.

"'Kay, I gotta tell Momo that too. See you tomorrow, Fujiko!"

Fuji said goodbye and hung up, suddenly left with a lot more to think about.

***

In the morning Ryoma woke up miserable and dragged himself down to breakfast. He paused on the stairs, ready to apologize to Fuji for whatever he had done, but it was only Natsumi this time.

"Syuusuke's already left," Nastumi said apologetically. "He said the tennis club is having an emergency meeting."

"Okay," Ryoma said, dropping into a chair. But it wasn't okay, not really.

***

"Something's wrong," Fuji said, watching Kuroda with narrowed eyes. He'd been on edge all morning, and he still hadn't apologized to Ryoma for his behavior. Kuroda's smug looking was not improving his mood.

"Don't jinx it," Eiji said anxiously. "Everyone is so tense."

Kuroda cleared his throat and began with some bullshit about what successful year it was, and how much they had grown. Then he paused, sweeping his eyes over the team before resting on Tezuka. He smirked, and Fuji knew right then it wasn't going to end well.

"And, of course, Yamada-buchou is sorry he couldn't make it today. Though he does want me to pass on his choice for captain….his cousin Takashima Adachi, currently a third year at Hyotei Middle School."

It didn't make sense. The whole court reacted to that - not just the ex-regulars. Kuroda seemed slightly uncomfortable with the level of animosity. Tezuka bowed his head in acceptance, but Fuji could tell he was upset.

"Calm down, everyone," Kuroda said over the rising level of noise.

"Are you proud of yourself?" Fuji cut in. The attention immediately shifted to the tensai, but Fuji gave no sign of what he was thinking. "How does it feel, to have Yamada walk all over you?"

Kuroda looked highly irritated at the interruption. "Now, Fuji, - "

"Don't talk," Fuji said coldly. "You could have stopped him, you know."

There were tentative murmurs of agreement from the court, and then a few shouts. Kuroda turned angrily to the source of the disturbance.

"Go to hell, Fuji," he snapped. "I know what I'm doing."

"I don't think you do," Eiji cut in. The icy tone was surprising coming from the usually-cheerful player, and several people shifted uncomfortably.

Inui cleared his throat, but it did nothing to lessen the tension. "No first year, no matter how talented, is even eligible for the position of captain."

"How did he manage that?" someone else called out.

"You better rethink it!"

"Make Tezuka captain!"

For the first time that year, it felt like they were a team. They fought for what they wanted, together, and Kuroda scrabbled for words, upset, angry….relieved?

Fuji whirled around to see Yamada entering the courts, a bitter smile on his face. The boy put down his tennis bag and shrugged off his jacket, and by the time he was done it was dead silent.

"Buchou!" Kuroda blurted out pathetically. "You're back!"

***

There was something gratifying about those mindless idiots bowing down to him. They were recognizing who had control, thanking him for getting them this far. Except…

"The little tensai and all his friends," he said, satisfied with the way a few of them shrank back.

"Yamada," Fuji said. The absence of the proper suffix hung in the air, but Yamada chose not to comment. Fuji was…difficult. Tezuka had kept in line for most of the year, but he could tell Kuroda's announcement had triggered something under the surface. Kuroda was a tactless idiot, but he at least had the sense to back down.

"You've been causing trouble."

"In the interests of the team," Fuji said evenly. They could have been discussing the weather, for all the emotion in their voices.

Yamada turned to the rest of the team and laughed humorlessly. "Who are you, to question my decisions? Go warm up."

The dismissal was abrupt but welcome, and they scattered quickly. Only Fuji and a few others lingered, and Yamada met Fuji's gaze squarely.

"You'll regret it," Yamada said quietly.

Fuji turned and ran, but Yamada could tell he wasn't afraid.

***

In the middle of a chemistry lab, Horio became so excited he nearly set his sleeve on fire. Ryoma slapped his hand away from the flame and went back to recording temperatures.

"Echizen!" Horio screamed out. "You'll never guess what just happened!"

Ryoma flicked his eyes to his lab partner, who was clutching his cell phone triumphantly. "Horio, put that away before sensei sees it."

"They announced the captaincy today!" Horio said.

"What?" Ryoma said, sitting bolt upright. "Did they...?"

Noticing the commotion, their teacher came over to investigate. "Horio, please refrain from using - "

"No! Yes!" Horio said, ignoring her. "Kuroda appointed some middle schooler - Yamada's cousin, apparently."

"Horio!" their teacher said angrily. "Give me - "

"Be quiet, sensei," Ryoma said, holding up a hand. "What do you mean, his cousin? What about Tezuka?!"

"Echizen!" his teacher screamed. "Such disrespect - "

Horio looked down at his phone, frantically scrolling through his texts. "There was another rebellion and I'm not clear how it ends - sensei, let go!"

"A rebellion?" Ryoma repeated. He was quick enough to snatch the phone back from his teacher. "Let me see." The text ended there...nothing else.

What?

Ryoma was brought back to the present by a sharp tug back of his collar. He looked up at his enraged science teacher, and quickly offered her the phone as some sort of truce. "Gomen, sensei, we just - "

"Echizen! Horio! Office! Now!"

***

Ryuzaki was in the teachers lounge when she heard the gossip. Echizen Ryoma, straight A student, captain of the tennis team...sent to the office for diciplinary action?

"It was his friend Horio," said one of the English teachers. "He was texting in class and Echizen someone got involved."

"It's not some sort of mistake?" someone else asked doubtfully. "I had Echizen for history last year. Very polite."

Ryuzaki snorted at this and left, deciding to go straight to the source. As she entered the office the secretary looked at her athletic outfit and smirked.

"Don't give me that face, missy," she snapped. "I make more money than you. Now where is Echizen Ryoma?"

The secretary sullenly pointed to the adjoining conference room, and Ryuzaki burst in without knocking. Both Ryoma and that pinched faced science teacher...Maeka, was it? looked up when she entered.

"You can talk to her!" Ryoma burst out, clearly relieved. Then he stood up and greeted his coach formally. "Konnichiwa, Ryuzaki-sensei."

"What is going on here?" Ryuzaki wanted to know.

"Maeda-sensei wants to talk to my parents," Ryoma said. "She doesn't believe they're iin America."

Masaki laughed, a thin, annoying sort of sound. "You know, Ryuzaki," she said conspiratorially, "Children will make up any excuse to avoid getting in trouble."

Ryuzaki fixed her with a level stare. "If Ryoma says they're in America, they're in America. He wouldn't lie to you."

"His rudeness this morning suggests otherwise," Maeda said, bristling. "I have never, in my ten years of teaching, been so thoroughly disrespected!"

"Echizen?"

"Horio said they appointed the high school captain," Ryoma said sullenly. "I wanted to know what happened."

Ryuzaki stared at the middle schooler, then burst out laughing. "Of course you did," she finally managed to get out. "Though you should have gotten the news from a more discreet source."

"If you aren't going to treat this seriously, I suggest you leave!" Maeda said, highly annoyed.

"Listen here, Maeda," Ryuzaki said.. "You can give him detention, but I see no point. This was a one-time occurrence. Right, Echizen?"

Ryoma nodded. "I'm sorry for any trouble, Maeda-sensei."

"It's nothing to worry about," Ryuzaki said dismissively. "Though if you truly have a problem, you can talk to Fuji Syuusuke's parents."

"Fuji...Syuusuke?"

"Yes, that's who Echizen is staying with for the time being." She tried not to smirk as she noticed Maeda's expression. "I take it you've had him before?"

"Yes, two years ago," Maeda said weakly. "I suppose...I suppose a lunchtime detention will suffice."

***

A few hours later, Ryuzaki was teaching a class of first-years how to kick a soccer ball when their focus abruptly vanished. She looked up to see what had caught their attention, and saw the famous Golden Pair approaching.

"Well, it's good to see you," Ryuzaki greeted. "I would ask you to pass on my congratulations but I hear things didn't exactly work out."

Eiji made a face. "No they didn't, and that's because Yamada is a f - "

"Eiji!" Oishi cut in, before the other boy could say anything. "At least wait until the first years can't hear us."

"Fine, fine," Eiji said, pouting. "We gotta talk to Ochibi. Have you seen him?"

"He's in detention," Ryuzaki said, frowning.

"Detention?" Oishi echoed, shocked. "What happened?"

Ryuzaki chuckled. "Horio got ahold of the captainship news during their science class. Maeda says they caused a bit of a disruption."

"Maeda-sensei?" Oishi echoed. "Poor Echizen..."

"Come on, Oishi!" Eiji said suddenly. "Let's go get Fuji! He's really good at talking to her."

"I'm sure he is," Ryuzaki said dryly, but she didn't try to discourage them. She didn't like Maeda one bit, and Ryoma deserved to know what happened.

***

Detention was terrible. Maeda had directed Horio and him to an unused classroom on the third floor and locked them in, telling them to clean the floors and desks. It was an hour later when Maeda returned, and Ryoma had to explain to his Japanese history teacher why he was so late.

"You had detention?" she echoed incredulously. "What were you doing, sleeping?" She even called Maeda to check, while the rest of the third years tried their best to get the story out of him.

Ryoma ignored them, not wanting to think about it. He was dying to talk to Tezuka and figure out what had happened, but he had the rest of his classes and practice to get through. The minutes passed painfully slowly, but by 5:30 practice had drawn to a close and his teammates wandered off.

He had just locked up the clubhouse when he felt someone approaching. Ryoma turned, half-expecting to see Fuji, but instead someone grabbed his wrist and shoved him against the wall. He instinctively tried to squirm away, but he was exhausted and the newcomer was so angry...he stopped struggling, feeling the grip on his wrist tighten.

"Echizen Ryoma," the voice said. It sounded slightly familiar but Ryoma was too scared to place it.

"So you're the middle schooler I've been hearing so much about."

Ryoma twisted suddenly to catch a glimpse of dark hair. "Yamada-senpai," he said, realizing who it was.

The other boy sneered and twisted Ryoma's arm, and Ryoma instinctively followed, trying not to shudder as he ended up staring into into Yamada's face.

"I hear you're left-handed." He said this calmly, as though they were discussing the weather, then tightened his grip even more.

"What do you want?" Ryoma said, refusing to let Yamada hear him cry out.

"Hm. Lots of things," Yamada answered. "I want Tezuka to stop causing so much trouble...and I want that foolish friend of his to stop interfering.

He suddenly twisted his grip, and Ryoma gasped as pain split through the numbness. "From what I hear you'll cause just as much trouble," Yamada continued. "I don't want to see you on the courts next year."

"Let go!" Ryoma cried out, not caring how pathetic he sounded.

"Promise," Yamada shot back. "Promise me you won't play."

Somethig shifted in his wrist, and he wanted to throw up. "I promise," he choked out, and it was over.

***

i love this chapter. fuji coming to terms with his feelings, some atobe/ryoma confrontation, the captain thingy announced (apparently captainship isn't a word, but i've used it at least tiwce), ryoma/yamada confrontation (ow!)...am i moving too fast? i guess i was bored (i'm in wyoming, you guys) and wanted to write drama.

also, when i first made yamada he kind of snivelly and whiny...not evil. i might go back and rewrite those parts. but for now, let's just accept the fact that people do scary stuff when they're angry.

***ETA: yamada has been split into 2 characters. see beginning of chapter 11 for more details.

next up: angry!fuji, angry!atobe, secretive!ryoma. or something like that


	10. in which the semifinals actually happen

i-da-ho? no, you da ho. i apologize to anyone who lives in idaho, but my cousin and i find that joke hilarious.

MysteriousEyez - i am so glad you liked that line. i couldn't really picture ryuzaki saying it, but it really grew on me...

thfourteenth - well, damn. takashima/the new seigaku high captain (i've forgotten his name a few hundred times already) ended up going to hyotei because i was too lazy to think of a school name. but now i'm thinking. *thinks*

Sapphirewood and all the other enthusiastic reviewers - don't ever die, okay? i love you guys.

* * *

Ryoma quietly dropped his schoolbag in the hallway, hoping Fuji was still angry enough to avoid him. He couldn't face Fuji right now...not now, not ever. But the whole universe appeared to be against him today, because the tensai appeared less than a second later.

"Ryoma," he said, and there was no anger in his voice. "I tried looking for you at lunch."

Ryoma weakly stuttered an excuse and headed back outside, but Fuji was quicker. He stood in the doorway, frowning.

"I want to talk to you," he said. Ryoma tried to push by him, but Fuji grabbed onto his arm.

"Let go!" he immediately choked out, feeling pain shoot up his wrist. He made it as far as the front steps before he had to sit down, shaking. A moment later Fuji sat down next to him, reaching for Ryoma's hand.

"Let me see."

And maybe it was because it hurt so much, maybe it was because he sounded so gentle - whatever the reason, Ryoma couldn't pull away. Fuji lightly traced the swollen joint, expression unreadable. The bruise had already formed, dark and angry where it wrapped around Ryoma's wrist.

"Ryoma," he finally said, his voice dangerously soft. "Who did this?"

Ryoma shivered. Fuji sounded a lot like Yamada when he was angry.

"I fell," he said, mustering as much defiance as he could.

"I don't believe that," Fuji said, eyes icy. "Tell the truth."

"Please, Fuji-senpai, let go."

After a pause, Fuji did, and Ryoma breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're going to the hospital," Fuji said abruptly. He took hold of Ryoma's other hand and pulled him to the his feet, leaving Ryoma no choice but to follow.

***

"It's broken, I'm sure of it," Fuji said into the phone, letting his anger show. The woman next to him shifted uneasily, but he was too worked up to apologize.

There was a long silence, and then Tezuka spoke. "Which wrist?"

"Left," Fuji snapped. "And I don't believe that's a coincidence."

"One of his opponents," Tezuka said slowly. "But he's too fast for anyone to get that advantage over him - unless it was a surprise."

Fuji felt sick. "I can't believe someone would _do_ that!"

"Calm down," Tezuka said, though he sounded a bit upset himself. "He said nothing?"

"He said he fell," Fuji said, disgusted. "Like I would believe that!" He looked up as the door to the waiting room swung open, Ryoma meeting his eyes for the briefest moment before looking back at the floor. "I've got to go, Tezuka."

***

Natsumi accepted Ryoma's story about slipping on the stairs and fussed over him for the rest of the evening. The cast covered up the hand-shaped bruise on his wrist, but Fuji knew it was still there. He tried one last time after dinner.

"Why don't you tell me, Ryoma?" he said bluntly. "What are you so afraid of?

Ryoma looked up from his homework, golden eyes wide.

"I told you, I fell," he said quietly.

"Don't you trust me?" Fuji demanded.

Ryoma winced and said nothing.

He lay awake for a long time that night. The pain in his wrist was still fresh, and the promise he made kept it raw. It would be so easy to tell Fuji what had happened...but Yamada still had too much power.

Ryoma shuddered, remembering how angry the high schooler had been. He'd made out Ryoma as the pillar of Seigaku...was that why? Did he want to get back at Fuji or Tezuka? Did he expect the team to crumble without Ryoma? He thought they were stronger than that.

They had to be.

***

Fuji watched Ryoma carefully, but the boy let nothing slip, not even when Tezuka came over before school on Thursday. That afternoon he told Momo not to worry, he could still beat him with his right hand. But the confidence seemed false, and he played tennis differently - unattached, somehow.

On Friday they all came to Ryoma's practice, and Ryoma didn't kick them out. His team needed a morale booster before the semi-finals, and he wasn't exactly able to give them one. Ryuzaki stayed to watch, amused to watch the middle schoolers pester Momo about his dunk smash.

"I talked to Ikeda," she said to Tezuka, watching Oishi demonstrate his Moon Volley. "He won't overturn Yamada's decision."

"I see."

She glanced at Tezuka, surprised. "There are other methods, you know."

"Of course," Tezuka said. "But this week has been rather busy."

Ryuzaki knew he wasn't referring to the upcoming finals. "He's told you nothing?

"No."

They both turned their attention to the far court, where Kaidoh and Ryoma were rallying. Ryoma instinctively switching hands to receive one of the Kaidoh's snake shots, but dropped his racket at Eiji and Fuji's yell.

"Good job, Ochibi!" Eiji said, ignoring Ryoma's glare.

"Saa...don't look at us like that," Fuji chided. "If you can't break that habit you're not playing in the semi-finals."

"But we'll be there to remind you!" Eiji said happily. "All of us!"

Ryuzaki chucked, seeing Ryoma's face. "He's stubborn, but you're taking good care of him," she told Tezuka. Tezuka said nothing, watching as Ryoma scored a point using a right-handed Cyclone Smash.

"Mada mada dane, Kaidoh-senpai."

***

The day of the semifinals dawned bright and lazy. All of windows were open in the house, but there was no breeze and it remained stifling hot. Fuji and Ryoma ate a breakfast of cold rice on the porch, Ryoma going over the lineup one last time before his cell phone rang.

"Moshi moshi?" he said, somewhat nervously, seeing it was from the hospital.

"_Ohayo, Ryoma_!" It was Nanako. She sounded tired but she spoke her words clearly, which meant her throat wasn't irritated from the chemo. "_I just wanted to wish you good luck_."

"Good luck?" Ryoma repeated dumbly. He was usually the one to wish his cousin good luck, and the sudden reversal left him confused.

"_Yes, I had to hear from Yumiko-chan that your semifinals were this weekend_!" she said, exasperated. It was the same tone of voice she used whenever Ryoma forgot to take of his shoes...when he was late for dinner...when he forgot his bento and she had to run after him...he missed her, a lot.

"The semifinals," he echoed. "Didn't you get my letter?"

"_Hai, hai, but it only had one little mention of your tennis team! I want to hear every single detail of your match, alright_?"

"I don't think it will go very well," Ryoma said slowly. "I broke my wrist on Wednesday."

"_You _what?"

"It's nothing," Ryoma said, sensing Fuji was listening intently. As if he would ever tell Nanako about Yamada...she would probably fly back immediately, no matter how sick she was.

"_But you poor thing! Are you still eating okay, and sleeping, and _- "

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," he cut in. "I'm staying with Yumiko's family."

"_That's good_," she said, and she sounded relieved. "_I'm sorry, Ryoma, everyone keeps fussing over me and you're all alone_ - "

"I'm not alone," he protested. "Please don't worry about me, oneechan." He wanted to ask if anyone would be back in time for his graduation, but it seemed too desperate.

"_Then do your best today, alright? I have to go now, but I'll call later_."

He said goodbye and hung up, startled to find Tezuka sprawled out on the porch next to Fuji. It seemed that even his former captain wasn't immune to the heat, and Ryoma sighed as he rejoined the two high schoolers. It wasn't even noon yet and the sun was shining with twice its normal intensity.

"Everything alright, Echizen?" Tezuka asked.

"I need a favor," Ryoma said slowly, remembering something. "Ryuzaki has a teachers conference to go to and won't make it until later. But I don't want anyone sitting out in the sun before their match. Could you possibly - "

"What a good idea," Fuji cut in, beaming. "I'd _love _to be bench coach for Singles 1."

"Fuji-senpai," Ryoma snapped, glaring at the other boy. "I wasn't asking you."

"I don't think you asked me, either," he said, smiling wider. "Remember?"

It took a moment for Ryoma to realize what Fuji was talking about. He finally remembered that he'd insisted to be bench coach for Fuji, once... "That was years ago, Fuji-senpai."

"I accept the position for the other matches," Tezuka said neutrally.

"Buchou!" Ryoma said, staring open-mouthed at the older boy. "He's going to _do_ something."

"Oh?" Tezuka said, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Tell me, Fuji, what exactly are you going to do?

"Nothing," Fuji said, beaming. "Besides offer advice. You're so suspicious, Ryoma." Ryoma made a face, and Fuji suddenly turned serious. "I won't do it if you don't want me to."

"Che," Ryoma said, turning back to your breakfast. "Doesn't matter."

"I'm sure we can arrange a substitute," Tezuka said thoughtfully. "Such as - "

"Fuji-senpai can do it," Ryoma said immediately. He glared at Tezuka and wondered whether Fuji was rubbing off on him. Maybe it was the heat.

"Now that's settled," Fuji said cheerfully, getting to his feet. "Shall we go?"

***

At the courts, Ryoma met up with his team and ran through very, very light warm up exercises. Even so, everyone was sweating like they had run a marathon when they were done.

"Stay hydrated, everyone," he directed. "I want to see water bottles before, during and after your matches."

His regulars muttered their agreement, then gathered in the shade to start stretching. Ryoma told them their lineup and attempted to offer some last-minute advice, but they were too wound up or too hot to pay attention.

"Alright, everyone," he finally said, realizing it was a hopeless cause. "This is it."

His team immediately quieted, and Ryoma was struck by how much he would miss them. Maybe they didn't have an overwhelming amount of natural talent, but they had proved their dedication countless times over.

"I'm not going to bullshit everyone by saying it was a great year," he told them. "We struggled, a lot, with injuries," here, he glanced down at his cast, "with getting to know each other. But I think that in the end, that makes us the stronger team here."

Behind him, a loud whistle signified the arrival of Eiji and the others. Ryoma turned to glare at the acrobat before continuing.

"If this is our last tournament together, then so be it. I know you all want to win. I do, too. But more important is that you try your best."

With the amount of noise Momo and Kaidoh were making, it was surprising his team was actually listening to him. But they seemed to be hanging onto his every word. He would miss it - all of it.

"One more thing," he said, forcing himself to focus. "Ryuzaki had a teacher's conference and can't make it until later, but she sends her luck. In the meantime, Tezuka-buchou has agreed to be bench coach."

With that, they broke out in excited whispering. Ryoma didn't bother to quiet them. He found it slightly amusing, but nonetheless hoped he had never been so...obvious with his admiration.

"It's not fair, Ochibi!" Eiji said, bounding forward. "I want to be bench coach for Doubles 1!"

Ryoma fixed Eiji with a look, and it appeared to have some effect until...

"Saa...I've already got Singles 1."

Ryoma turned to glare at Fuji, but it was too late. Eiji immediately pouted and redoubled his efforts.

"Nya, Ochibi! Don't give Fujiko special priveledges just because you're in _love!_"

"What?" Ryoma said, quickly glancing at Fuji. Fuji stopped looking innocent and started looking confused, which was slightly comforting.

"I call Singles 2!" Momo suddenly interrupted. He grinned at Takeda, the power player who was slated to play right before Ryoma...hm. He knew that Takeda had been fairly successful at learning Momo's Dunk Smash...also, that the Akiyama-Ueno pair definitely drew inspiration from Eiji and Oishi. His regulars looked at him hopefully, and Ryoma sighed.

"Fine," he said, relenting. "Everyone may choose their bench coach, but I have to approve it."

"Ochibi is so harsh, nya!" Eiji said, pouting. His regulars were amused to hear this, but Ryoma was not.

"Do you want to run laps?" he asked the acrobat, making his displeasure clear. "It's either that or help the others finish their warm up."

Eiji stuck out his tongue and ran off, trailed by the seven middle school regulars and four of the high schoolers. Momo, who had been following Kaidoh at a safe distance, suddenly froze. Ryoma looked up to see what had caught his attention, and saw none other than Atobe Keigo approaching.

"What are you doing here?" Momo demanded, before Tezuka or Fuji could say anything.

"That's a new low, even for Seigaku," Atobe Keigo snapped. His usually condescension had vanished, and Ryoma thought he sounded upset. "Don't you know who's playing today?"

"You're awfully worked up," Momo shot back. "Scared of losing?"

"Of course not," Atobe said, sneering. "This doesn't concern you. Leave."

It was perhaps much less elegant than his normal rhetoric, but it was still effective. Momo jogged off, all the while looking anxiously behind him. Atobe was about to order Fuji and Tezuka to follow, but stopped when he saw Fuji's expression. Stupid overprotective overperceptive tensai.

"Is there something you need, Atobe?" Tezuka said. The words were polite, but Atobe did not miss the stern undertone. He got straight to the point, glancing down Ryoma's wrist.

"Brat. I want to know why you have a...a _thing_ on your arm."

Ryoma scowled. Atobe was not his captain, for fuck's sake, he didn't have to be so disapproving. Fuji also didn't look happy, but Ryoma couldn't tell whether it was Atobe or the mention of his broken wrist.

"It's a cast," he said, glaring up at the older boy. "Don't be such an idiot."

"I know what is is," Atobe said irritably. "But what the fuck did you do?"

"I fell," Ryoma said flatly.

"You expect me to believe that?!" The Hyotei player sneered and turned to Tezuka, repeating the question. "He's not that clumsy, Tezuka. What happened?"

"He says he fell," Tezuka said stoically.

"You can't be stupid enough to believe that!"

"Shut up, Monkey King," Ryoma said. He snatched up his tennis bag and pushed by Atobe, heading for the practice courts. Like hell he would let Atobe ruin his concentration.

"You know nothing?" Atobe said, once Ryoma was out of earshot.

"We know this," Fuji said suddenly. Before Atobe could react, Fuji had him pinned against the tree, one arm caught behind his back. He shuddered and tried to pull away, but the tensai was quite powerful when he was angry.

"You see?" Fuji said expressionlessly, tightening his grip.

"Fuji, enough!" he heard Tezuka say, and a moment later Fuji let go. Atobe turned around and studied the Seigaku player warily, rubbing his wrist.

"No one from Hyotei would do that," he said absently. That was sick. And he could see why Fuji was so angry - a broken wrist was serious, especially on Ryoma's dominant hand. In a worst case scenario, complications would last for several years, rendering the hand useless.

"We know nothing else," Tezuka said, more serious than Atobe had ever seen him. "But it was most likely someone bigger than him."

"Someone with a death wish," Fuji added, eyes were flashing dangerously in the sunlight.

"We'll find out who it was," Atobe promised, his mind racing. They were interrupted by the five-minute warning for Doubles 2, and he turned to go.

"Good luck," Tezuka said, and no one was foolish enough to believe he was talking about the tournament.

It was much more than that.

***

"Sorry, b-buchou," Takeda said, panting heavily.

"Water," Ryoma immediately reminded him. One of the Hyotei players had already fainted, and there was no way in hell he would let the same thing happen to his team. "And don't apologize. You played well."

Takeda looked immensely pleased at the praise. Ryoma didn't often give out general statements like that, unless he was satisfied with the entirety of the game. Ryoma almost followed up with a suggestion on his footwork near the baseline, but decided to let it go.

"Good luck," Takeda said earnestly. He went to rejoin his teammates, knowing by now Ryoma preferred solitude before his matches.

Ryoma stretched out again and breathed in the last few moments of shade. He felt someone approach, and knew it was Fuji. Hm...since when could he learned to identify the other boy by the way he walked?

"Would you rather be alone right now?" he heard Fuji say.

"Yes," he said immediately. It was more of a reflex than anything, and a second later he realized it wasn't true. "No. Stay."

Fuji settled down next to him. "Two wins, two losses," he mused. "It's just like the finals when you were a first year. Who are you playing?"

"Er...Takashima Adachi. I don't think I've ever played him before - " he broke off, hearing Fuji's sharp intake of breath. He opened his eyes and glanced up at the older boy, noting his dark expression. "Fuji-senpai, what's the matter?"

"It's that idiot Yamada's cousin," Fuji said, suddenly irritated. "You had better win."

"Oh," Ryoma said, trying not to sound too upset. Maybe this was why Yamada had done it...if he was going to appoint a middle schooler as captain, it would have to be the number one in the circuit. To have Ryoma win their match wouldn't look good....he shivered, then hoped Fuji thought it was from anticipation rather than fear.

Fuji opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the five-minute warning for Singles 1. Hyotei's Takashima Adachi vs. Seigaku's Echizen Ryoma. Fuji helped him up before he could make the mistake of putting weight on his injured wrist, and together they headed for the courts.

"Ochibi!" Eiji said immediately, seeing them approach. "Good luck hug!"

That was all the warning he got before his red-haired friend nearly tackled him. Ryoma tried to squirm away, but Eiji was more enthusiastic than usual and he only had one hand to work with.

"Eiji-senpai!" Ryoma protested, finally giving up. "You never do this to Tezuka!"

"That's because he's not as cute as you are, nya!" Eiji gave him one more squeeze and stepped back. "No offense, Tezuka-buchou."

"None taken," Tezuka said, letting his amusement show. A split second later it was gone, and Ryoma wondered if he had imagined it. "Echizen, please remember to use only right-handed shots. Otherwise, you're forfeiting."

Ryoma nodded. "I understand, buchou."

Current and former teammates moved forward to wish him luck, but Ryoma could tell they were anxious. At the sound of the referees whistle he entered the courts, Fuji accompanying him. His opponent was going through a set of warm up swings, and Ryoma studied him closely.

Takashima was right handed, and he swung powerfully rather than sharply. And...he was much thinner than Yamada, his hair lighter, but there was still something about the face that was similar to his cousin's. The eyes, maybe.

Ryoma resolutely turned to his racket, forcing himself to stop comparing the two. It was stupid. They were here to play tennis, and he couldn't let his team down. They'd come a long way together.

"Good luck, Ryoma," Fuji said. He was smiling, but his eyes were wide open and sharp.

"Arigatou, Fuji-senpai." He approached the net for the customary handshake, trying not to show his relief when Takashima didn't grip too hard.

"I thought you were left-handed," Takashima said, nodding to Ryoma's cast.

Ryoma stiffened, but he saw no sign of maliciousness in the other boy's face. Maybe him and Yamada weren't close.

"I'm not worried," he retorted.

"You should be," Takashima said, and smirked. It was more teasing than threatening, and Ryoma felt the last of his unease disappear. He liked the other boy, somehow.

"Why are you coming to Seigaku?" he asked, curious.

"No reason in particular," the other boy answered. "It's closer, s'all. And I...I get to be captain. I suppose you've heard?"

"Hn," Ryoma said, turning away. He stopped, seeing Tezuka by the fence. "You think you're the best one for the position?"

"Yamada said there was no one else," Takashima answered. There was something strange in his voice. "He made me promise."

Ryoma knew very well how persuasive Yamada could be, and he didn't press.

"Save the flirting for after the game, Echizen." someone called out. It sounded like Momoshiro. Ryoma rolled his eyes and offered his racket to the other boy.

"Rough."

"Your serve," Ryoma said, heading to his baseline. Relief had given way to determination. He could do this. And if this was to be his last match - he faltered a little, remembering his promise to Yamada - then it would be a damn good one.

***

* * *

next chapter: the match between Takashima and ryoma (duh), angry!fuji x10000, probably more echizenfamily!drama...but i've been neglecting that the past few chapters...we'll see. keep the suggestions coming!


	11. in which fuji and ryoma kiss

dear everyone,

damn. the other day kame left a review that really whipped me into shape. i went back and pain-stakingly edited all the chapters so that the character of yamada wouldn't be as stupid. now:

---kuroda has becoma the whiny, snivelly type VICE-captain

---and yamada is the manipulative, creepy captain who was suspended for unknown reasons and then came back.

i really needed a villain so yamada was forced into that role...i'm sorry it makes no sense. editing old chapters makes me want to die, so there will be more about his psychotic character in future chapters.

* * *

"Takashima leads, 1-0."

Takashima didn't exactly have pinpoint accuracy, but his shots were amazingly powerful. Ryoma would have struggled even using his left hand, and with only his right Takashima scored three straight points. Still, the other boy seemed surprised by how refined his right-handed playing was, and Ryoma made a comeback on sloppy mistakes. It wasn't enough.

He kept his own service game using his Twist Serve. His muscles were sluggish and it wasn't as fast as it normally was, but Takashima didn't return it until his third try.

"1-1. Takashima to serve."

In a straight up rally, Ryoma was quicker. He managed to break Takashima's service, but it took a lot of effort.

"2-1, advantage Seigaku. Change court."

"Hot," Ryoma complained, collapsing onto the bench.

"Not bad so far," Fuji said, handing the other boy his water bottle. "But you can't let him get away with those smashes."

There was one smash in particular - the crowd called it the Earthquake Smash, which Ryoma thought was a very stupid name. But it was accurate, nonetheless, in that his racket shook with the strain of returning it. Takashima didn't use it often because they were both trying to conserve energy, but Ryoma still hadn't managed to return it.

Takashima looked determined now, and he threw in more smashes - to opposite ends of the court, and Ryoma was forced to play defensively. He knew he needed to regain control before he lost too much stamina...but how?

Ryoma looked down at his racket, wondering. Higuma Otoshi required almost perfect balance...could he pull it off using only his right hand?

***

"3-1, Seigaku leads. Takashima to serve. Change court."

"I can't believe he can do that!" one of the middle schoolers shrieked. Despite the disappointed shouts of the Hyotei players, Higuma Otoshi was again successful.

Another of Ryoma's teammates, this one holding a notebook and a pencil, was craning his neck towards Inui's data. "But I don't understand, buchou shouldn't be able to use that with his right hand - "

"Ahem," Inui said, pulling his own notebook out of reach. "Consider that Higuma Otoshi would be easier for Echizen to copy than other moves. Fuji and Echizen share somewhat similar playing styles."

"It's true," Momo said suddenly. "When they're both serious, anyway."

"They wouldn't make a good doubles pairing, then," Horio said smugly. "I _told_ you, Echizen can't - "

"Incorrect," Inui said. "The best doubles pairings have similar strengths. For example, Eiji and Oishi both have amazing control, which manifests in different ways. This allows them to play off each other and gain an advantage over - "

He broke off as Takashima returned a particularly difficult shot, Hyotei supporters erupting into cheers. Seigaku joined in a second later, as Ryoma finished off the game with a drop volley.

"4-1, Seigaku leads."

Inui waited until Horio was paying attention before continuing. He could tell Tezuka was intrigued, too, but he wasn't as obvious in showing it.

"Echizen is able to predict where the ball will go relying solely on his opponent's body language. In this weather that gives him the advantage, because he can conserve his energy. And if you watch Fuji play, it's a similar kind of perceptiveness."

"But Echizen would never play doubles!" Horio shrieked, sounding exasperated. "Inui-senpai, you just don't get it!"

Inui just shrugged. His data was never wrong.

***

That's when everything stopped.

The pain in his arm wrenched into focus. It was hot, too hot, and everything felt heavy and awkward.

Yamada was there, leaning against the Hyotei fence. The other boy smirked at his expression.

"_Hyotei_," the other boy mouthed, along with the crowd. "_Hyotei will win_."

Ryoma dropped his gaze, suddenly feeling sick. How much power did Yamada still have? What were his limits? Tezuka and Fuji and even the middle schoolers were tangled in this...it was too much.

"Game to Hyotei. 4-3, Seigaku still leads. Change court."

He sat down shakily on the bench, too caught up to focus on tennis. Fuji tugged on his racket to get his attention, and Ryoma tried and failed to meet his gaze. Fuji would hate him, if he knew.

"Do you want to forfeit the match?"

Ryoma was about to spit out an instinctive _no..._but then paused, thinking. Forfeiting. With his injury, he could twist his way out -

"What is the _matter_ with you?"

He stopped considering it immediately, feeling somewhat guilty at Fuji's expression. There were people depending on him, he knew, and forfeiting was a cowardly way out. But Yamada wanted him to lose...

***

"Come on, Ochibi!" Eiji said desperately. "What's wrong?"

"He's not used to relying on the same hand for so long, especially his right hand," Inui pointed out. "And he's slightly off-balance with that cast."

Eiji shook his head. "It's more than that. He's so...he's so...."

"Lost," Momo supplied. "Like he doesn't want to be here."

The middle school regulars turned to look at him fearfully.

"Are we going to lose, Inui-senpai?" Takeda wanted to know.

Inui cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, if the situation continues -"

"It can't!" Eiji moaned.

"5-4. Hyotei leads."

***

Ryoma couldn't do it. He couldn't do anything. Even if he wanted to, his body remembered the incident with his broken wrist. Everything was slow, painful, hot.

"Brat!"

The voice cut into his thoughts, familiar and annoying all at once. He flicked his eyes to the fence, caught off balance by Atobe's glare. He didn't understand. Atobe should be happy with the way things were turning out.

_Hyotei will win..._

"Hyotei will _not_ win in such a disgusting manner!"

Ryoma lowered his racket, hoping Atobe would shut up. He didn't have enough energy to ignore him.

"Play seriously, or I'll make you regret it!"

_Stop. You'll regret it. _

Something became clear to him with those words. These could be the last four points he played. Ever.

_Stop!_

The middle schoolers and the high schoolers clutched the fence, screamed words of encouragement. His team would be so disappointed...he owed it at least to them, as their captain.

Yamada could fucking go to hell if he didn't understand that.

With that thought, Ryoma served - for his friends, for his team, for himself. The ball sliced through the heat and hit the opposite court with a deafening crack.

Takashima blinked, and Atobe shrieked. Ryoma would have to make fun of the girlish noise later, for now...

"Aren't you going to call it?"

The referees clustered around the video monitor, and Ryoma rolled his eyes. If they had been paying any attention, they would have seen the ball landed almost directly in the center of the court.

"15-0."

***

The sun poured down on the courts as it neared noon. Any remaining shade had vanished, but no one left to find more. The bleachers were dead silent, the ending potentially one point away.

The energy that went into the game was incredible. Ryoma and Takashima weren't playing...they were fighting. Every opening was exploited, every exploitation needed revenge. Yamada was watching, and waiting.

"6-5. Seigaku leads."

Takashima's posture said he wouldn't let Ryoma win. He couldn't. He scrubbed the sweat out of his eyes and threw the ball up to serve...knowing by now that Ryoma's weak spot was his left side, near the baseline.

Ryoma saw it, knew where the ball was going. His body was screaming at his to switch to his injured hand and smash it back, but he wouldn't. He thought of Eiji, twisting his body around and jumping...

The racket connected solidly, smoothly, the ball soaring to Takashima's baseline...

It was in.

"7-5. Game and match, Sei - "

The rest of the sentence faded away as Seigaku screamed their victory. The fight was over, the finals were waiting...but Fuji could tell something was off. He hung back on the bench, watching Ryoma carefully.

The post game handshake was something of a subdued affair. Fuji knew Ryoma well enough by now to see the boy was apologizing for something. It was in the way he looked at Takashima, the way he held his racket close to his side. But Ryoma _never _apologized to his opponents. Something was wrong.

The curl of his fingers gave it away. He was afraid. Fuji followed his gaze, and suddenly knew.

_He did it._

_***_

"We'll talk later," Ryoma promised, knowing now wasn't the time or the place. Takashima nodded, and Ryoma turned away, eyes automatically sliding to the bench.

Fuji wasn't there.

But he wouldn't leave...unless...

Ryoma whirled around, but Yamada was nowhere to be seen. His team moved forward to congratulate him, but Ryoma pushed them away and ran.

***

"_Why did you do it_?" Fuji demanded, his hands clenched into fists.

Yamada only tilted his head to the side and smiled, sickeningly bitter. "I told you that you'd regret it."

"You're _done." _Fuji felt like throwing up, lashing out, stopping him...he lunged forward, and Yamada's head hit the pavement with a horrid crack before he shot up, angry and intense and needing control. He had the weight advantage over Fuji but the other boy didn't seem to care. They tangled with punches and kicks and everything in between, spilling blood onto the burning concrete.

"Fuji-senpai!" he heard someone say. Ryoma. Fuji felt a small hand on his shoulder for the briefest of moments, heard the fear in his voice.

He hesitated, and that was enough for Yamada to slam a fist against his cheek. Pain splintered across his face, his vision blurred...

When he recovered, Fuji froze. Yamada had Ryoma pinned against the concrete, a hysterical look in his eyes.

"You have to stop it!" he shrieked, wrapping his hands around Ryoma's neck.

Fuji was terrified by the person in front of him, terrified for Ryoma. He started forward, but Yamada shrieked and shook his head, tightening his grip on Ryoma's throat. Ryoma choked out a plea and tugged at Yamada's hands, but the high schooler didn't even notice.

"Don't move, don't do anything, you _have to stay there_!"

His eyes were wild and unfocused, and Fuji's heart was pounding. There was nothing he could do, Yamada was so angry...

"What the _fuck_ is going on?"

***

Atobe didn't think twice before throwing himself on Ryoma's attacker. The other boy blindly lashed out, but Atobe was able to dodge the kick before slamming him into the ground. His opponent went quiet, still, and the silence filled with the sound of Ryoma choking in air.

"What happened?" Atobe demanded, anxiously checking the other boy for injuries.

Ryoma didn't answer or push him away, his eyes wide and frightened as he took in his attacker's unconscious form. Atobe followed his gaze, and couldn't help but yell out when he realized who it was. Seigaku's captain, Yamada Taiki. But why...?

"He deserved it."

Atobe whirled around, belatedly remembering the presence of a fourth person. He received an immense shock for the second time that day, coming face to face with Fuji Syuusuke.

Blood was dripping down the side of Fuji's face, and Atobe could almost feel the anger radiating off of him. Something was missing. He hadn't remembered Fuji being so violent...or Ryoma being this afraid.

"You better have a damn good reason for this," Atobe said tightly.

"He did it," Fuji said, eyes frighteningly intense.

Ryoma snapped out of his shock, hurriedly tucking his cast behind his back.

Too late. Atobe's eyes widened as he made the connection, and a second later he grabbed Ryoma by the shoulders.

"Why didn't you tell anyone, you brat!"

He didn't care how upset he sounded. If Fuji hadn't already done it -

"I'm sorry," Ryoma said miserably.

Before Atobe could figure out what to say to this, Yamada groaned and rolled over. Atobe immediately go of Ryoma and went to the Seigaku captain, roughly pulling him to his feet.

"Tezuka first," he snapped, tugging on the other boy's arm. "Then tournament officials."

Yamada was looking dazedly at the ground, and Fuji watched him carefully. "Want me to come with?"

"He's messed up enough for me to handle," Atobe answered. He nodded towards Ryoma, who was cradling his left wrist and staring blankly towards the fence. "You stay with him."

"Good luck," Fuji told him.

"And to you."

***

Only the Seigaku players were hanging around to celebrate, so Atobe's purple and white definitely caught their attention. And there was Yamada, bleeding heavily from the nose and limping pathetically, but still recognizable.

Atobe ignored the whispers and stares as he approached Tezuka. Yamada resisted for the first time, muttering something and trying to pull back, but Atobe only tightened his grip.

"Can we talk?" he asked Tezuka.

Tezuka nodded, his expression revealing nothing more than a flicker or surprise. He stepped to a more private area by the fence, and his teammates respectfully hung back.

"He did it," Atobe said, getting straight to the point. "Ryoma's wrist, I mean."

A long moment passed, and Tezuka only looked at the other boy, face expressionless.

"Why?" he finally asked.

There was something strange, something distant about Yamada's eyes. Atobe knew he hadn't hit the other boy that hard, but perhaps Fuji had done something...

Tezuka sighed and started walking to the medical tent. His clenched fists betrayed the anger he was feeling, but he didn't act on it. Atobe was struck by the power, the self-control he had.

"Is Fuji alright?" Tezuka asked, realizing why the tensai had disappeared so suddenly.

"His injuries didn't seem too bad," Atobe answered. "And he's calmed down some. So yes, I think he's fine."

Tezuka hesitated slightly before asking his next question. "And Echizen?"

"I'm...I'm not sure."

***

Neither one of them said anything for a long time. They didn't move, either, despite the painful heat of the sun.

Ryoma was relieved no one had come to look for them. He could hear people on the other side of the equipment shed yelling out goodbyes and plans for after parties…truthfully, he didn't think he could stomach their enthusiasm. Not when he felt like such a failure.

Fuji was strangely quiet next to him, and he rolled onto his side to study the other boy. The high schooler was staring absently at something through the fence, his face revealing nothing of his true feelings. The cut on his cheek had stopped bleeding, but Fuji didn't seem to have noticed.

Ryoma briefly wondered if he could slip away without Fuji noticing, and immediately felt guilty at the thought. Fuji had given so much to him, and the least he could do was offer was an explanation. Though he wasn't quite sure where to being…it had something to do with Yamada being angry and his family so far away and him not quite knowing what to do…

He exhaled, slowly, then went to the sinks for a wet paper towel. Fuji took it from him with a muttered thanks and pressed it over the wound on his cheek. It was a long cut, but shallow, and with the blood gone it didn't seem quite so bad. Ryoma swallowed his relief, tried to say something.

"Did he…do anything else?"

Immediately, Fuji flicked his eyes to Ryoma's cast. Ryoma instinctively tucked his broken wrist behind him, and then felt foolish for doing so.

"Fuji-senpai, I…"

Should he apologize? Was Fuji upset with him? He trailed off, took the paper towel and finished cleaning the wound. Fuji sat in silence, watching.

"He…he told me I couldn't play tennis next year."

Fuji tensed at this, but Ryoma swallowed his fear and continued.

"He was so angry at you, at Tezuka…"

Fuji suddenly grabbed his uninjured wrist, and Ryoma froze. The touch was gentle, but he still felt trapped by it.

"_Why didn't you tell me_?"

"I...I was scared." It was hard to admit, but it was the truth.

"Damn it, Ryoma, I was too!"

The intensity, the honesty made him pull back. He jerked his wrist away, felt his fear give way to anger.

"You can't say that!"

"Why not?"

"Because – because…"

_You're not supposed to care so much!_

Ryoma couldn't say it, couldn't understand it. His life had changed so much in a single month…now it was Fuji who gave him comfort, a place to stay…then he'd gone and put his life in danger. It was all so _wrong_. He tried to stop his tears from forming but now that his world had turned upside down everything was so _difficult_…

"Please, don't hate me," Ryoma finally managed, hating how pathetic he sounded. "Just… "

He couldn't think, not when Fuji was starting at him like that. _Something _in his expression made him dizzy, or maybe it was just the heat…

And then, suddenly, Fuji suddenly closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against Ryoma's.

He was trapped, unable to move or think but somehow everything felt right – the softness of Fuji's hair, the light touch of his hands, the sweetness of his kiss. It was gentle, so gentle that he shivered, and Fuji only pulled him closer and Ryoma never felt so _safe._

His arms found their way around Fuji's neck and he moaned, pleading for caution to be thrown away. He felt Fuji hesitate ever so slightly, then something new, raw, passionate as Fuji's hands curled his hands around his hips. Their tongues brushed and it was as though he was drowning in something beautifully complete...and then the sharp, dizzying inhale made everything stop.

With a jarring clarity, the logical part of his mind took over. Ryoma pulled back, suddenly afraid.

"Fuji-senpai, I…"

He was so tired, mixed in the rush of the game and the fear of Yamada and his confusion and tears and he didn't know what to do. He saw the hurt on Fuji's face, gone so quickly he wondered if he had imagined it. He wanted to say something, wanted to know _why_…

But then Fuji smiled that fake smile of his, got to his feet like nothing had happened. "Let's go home," he said quietly. "Yuuta will be wanting to celebrate."

The sudden change of subject threw him off balance. Ryoma struggled to remember where he was, that Seigaku had won and there were the Nationals to prepare for…but that wasn't important and he didn't feel like celebrating. The only thing he could think of was _why. _

_Fuji-senpai, I don't understand…_

_***_

_

* * *

  
_

_sorry that the tennis match and the ending were so horrible, among other things. i am not very happy with this chapter at all. :(_

_next up: yamada goes to a psych ward (or something) and ryoma runs around talking to him and atobe, etc. later fuji and ryoma get over certain things and go on a "date"??? and could there be nanako drama right before nationals? duhhhhhh of course!_


	12. in which not really anything happens

empress satori kindly pointed out that nakajima/takashima had an identity crisis...my hero! chapters 9-10-11 have been fixed. thanks much!

to all my reviewers: much love to you! sorry this chapter is out so late, but i had serious writer's block.

* * *

Ryoma tried once, twice, three times to say something on the way home, but he couldn't find the words. He needed time to stop, time to think. They reached the shade of Fuij's porch, and Ryoma sighed, knowing it was now or never.

"Fuji-senpai – "

"Congratulations!" Natsumi interrupted, coming out to greet them. Her expression quickly turned to one of horror as she took in Fuji's appearance.

"Oh, your face! And your shin!" She darted over to her middle child, caught his face in her hands. She took in the cut on his cheek, pressing her lips together disapprovingly. "You were fighting, weren't you?"

Fuji didn't answer, trying and failing to free himself from her grip. "Kaa-san, that hurts!"

"I should hope so!" She steered him down the hall and into one of the kitchen chairs, not looking at all sympathetic. "You should know better, Syuusuke!"

"What's all the commotion?" Yuuta asked curiously, appearing in the doorway. He didn't look at all surprised by his brother's appearance, and Ryoma inwardly winced. The gossip had travelled faster than he thought.

"Yuuta, get some ice for your idiot brother! And Ryoma, you get the first aid kit from the bathroom."

Ryoma was startled to at the mention of his name, but dropped his tennis bag and went to do as she asked. Yuuta ignored his mother's direction and followed, watching Ryoma thoughtfully.

"So, can I ask if the rumors are true?"

"Depends on what rumors," Ryoma said tiredly. He opened the medicine cabinet, stared at the array of cough drops and aspirins.

"Yamada broke your wrist?"

Ryoma winced, hoped Yuuta didn't notice. "Yes, that's true."

"And of course Syuu heard about it and went after him. Then Atobe of Hyotei broke up the fight?"

"Don't ask if you don't already know," Ryoma snapped. He glared at the medicine cabinet, highly irritated that the first aid kit was on the top shelf. "And don't go _telling _everyone, either."

"I wouldn't," Yuuta said indignantly. "Aniki wouldn't either."

"Whatever," Ryoma said. He jumped for the top shelf, and managed to nudge the first aid kit.

Yuuta reached over and retrieved it before he could try again. "Hope Syuu gave as good as he got," he muttered absently. Ryoma briefly wondered if his glare was losing his effectiveness or the Fuji family was immune.

"YUUTA!" Natsumi suddenly shrieked from the kitchen. "I know for a fact there is NO ice in our bathroom!"

Yuuta made a face and headed back to the kitchen. Ryoma followed, handing the first aid kit to Natsumi.

"Thank you, Ryoma dear," she said warmly. "At least _some_ of us aren't trying to cause trouble around here."

Her exasperation reminded Ryoma of his own mother, and he suddenly missed her. His dad, too. They hadn't called about Nationals, yet, and he wondered if they remembered.

"Now, what on _earth_ were you thinking?" Natsumi said, turning back to Fuji. She dug through the first aid kit with quick, annoyed movements, and it was clear she was expecting a decent answer.

Yuuta and Fuji exchanged glances but neither one of them said anything. Ryoma squirmed, opened his mouth, finally stuttered out an explanation.

"He was fighting the person who…um…broke my wrist."

"Oh," was all Natsumi said, but her movements were a lot more gentle. She looked at Ryoma, still sounding concerned and angry. "I thought that was an accident."

He was saved at that moment as a dark-haired girl swept into the room, a large paper bag in her arms. She put the bag on the table and spun around with a smirk. A very familiar smirk.

"Guess who got a 98 on her chem final?"

The features were more feminine and the hair redder, but she bore a very strong resemblance to her brothers. She caught sight of Ryoma and broke out into a wide grin.

"You must be Echizen," she said. "Fuji Yumiko."

"Ryoma," he corrected her. "Yoroshiku."

Her smile widened as she returned his bow. "You know, Ryoma, you're much cuter than Yuuta ever was." She ignored Yuuta's indignant sqawk and turned her attention to the paper bag. "Dinner is on me today. If I had known – "

"Do us a favor and don't cook," Yuuta interrupted. "Ever."

"You're horrible," Yumiko said, pouting. "I'm not _that _bad, and Nan-chan has been giving me tips." At this, she glanced at Ryoma. "How is she?"

"Fine," Ryoma said, suddenly missing her cooking. "She says thank you for the comic you sent."

He liked Fuji Yumiko. It was a strange coincidence that Nanako and Yumiko were such good friends, but he was glad they were. It made it easier, somehow, now that he had someone who also worried about Nanako, who wanted her to get well.

"I wouldn't eat your cooking even if I was dying of starvation!" Yumiko was saying. "Now, are you seriously implying – "

"Yes, unless Yuuta was – "

"Who's side are you on?!"

As Ryoma watched the Fuji siblings bicker, he began to feel strangely out of place. He edged towards the door, intending to go upstairs and get an early start on his homework. Anything, really, to get rid of his homesickness. He didn't get very far before Yuuta called out to him.

"So, Ryoma, who do _you _think is the best cook in the house? And kaasan doesn't count."

Ryoma looked up, relieved to see Fuji's amused expression. Things were still okay, then. They definitely needed to talk, but there was plenty of time for that.

"Well?" Yuuta demanded.

Ryoma smirked, feeling some of his old confidence returning. "Actually, that would be me."

He didn't miss Yumiko's wide smile or Yuuta's incredulous expression. And he especially didn't miss the sound of Fuji's laughter.

"What – Ryoma – that's not even _legal _– "

From the table, Natsumi sighed and closed the lid of the first aid box. Another time, then.

***

In between the chaos of Nanako's illness, exams, and the upcoming Nationals, Ryoma wondered where he would be without the Fuji family. They offered him food and shelter, they did his laundry and provided company, but it went far beyond that.

On Monday, Ryoma found his dirty clothes had been washed and ironed, with little Rs written on the bottom of his socks.

"So we don't get mixed up," Natsumi said. "God knows we have enough athletic socks around here."

He looked at her and tried to say thank you, but the words got stuck in his throat. She smiled and understood, and that was how Ryoma gained a second mother.

On Tuesday, Yumiko made a surprise visit, announcing she had no use for her bedroom while at college. She dusted and vacuumed and offered it to Ryoma, who liked having closet space again. But it was too quiet and empty at night, and so he continued to sleep on the futon in Fuji's room.

Fuji didn't seem to mind. Neither of them mentioned the kiss, and it was almost like it had never happened. But sometimes, as he was drifting off to sleep, Ryoma wondered if he had done the right thing.

On Wednesday, Natsumi stormed upstairs and demanded to know who had tracked mud through the house. Ryoma blushed, kicked off his shoes, and offered to clean the floors. That was how he lost his status as a guest. He now got in trouble and was expected to do his chores, same as the rest of the Fuji family. He kind of liked it, in a way, and Yuuta put him in a headlock and called him crazy.

***

Thursday before school, Ryoma was absent mindedly directing backhand drills when Ryuzaki called him into her office. He tried not to let his worry show as he glanced towards the phone.

"Ryoma, this is Saitou Ayane. She works at the Riveredge Psychiatric Center."

Ryoma belatedly noticed the woman perched in one of the chairs, and hurriedly sunk into a bow. She nodded in response, brown eyes sharp behind a pair of glasses.

"I believe you're acquainted with Yamada Taiki," she said.

Ryoma knew she was observing his reaction, but he couldn't help but be relieved. It wasn't about Nanako, then.

"I was wondering if like to ask you a few questions. As his psychologist, I need your help to determine the best way to treat him."

Ryoma didn't want to talk about Yamada, but the way she phrased it made it impossible to refuse. He sighed, resigning himself to playing mind games for the next hour.

Ryuzaki offered to finish his practice, told him goodbye and good luck. Then the door closed and Saitou leaned forward anxiously. "Ryoma, I'm very happy you've decided to help me," she said. "I know this isn't a good time for you, with the Nationals so close."

He had the feeling she wanted a response. "This weekend."

She frowned but Ryoma didn't offer anything further. "And how were the semifinals?"

"I assume you know Yamada broke my wrist."

"Did he?" she said, but she didn't look at all surprised.

"He did," Ryoma said. The woman was incredibly annoying.

"Did you turn to anyone for help?"

"Hai."

"Who?"

"Fuji Syuusuke," Ryoma said, not seeing how it was relevant. He went on to explain how the fight between Fuji and Yamada had escalated, in the hopes she would understand and move on.

"I'm curious. Is Fuji is your boyfriend?"

"No, I'm only living with him." Too late, Ryoma realized this was the wrong argument to make. "I mean, I'm staying with his family."

She peered at him suspiciously over her glasses, and Ryoma was suddenly reminded of Tezuka trying to determine what Fuji was up to.

"My parents are in America," he elaborated, wishing she would hurry up.

"And how long are they there for?"

What the hell? "I thought this was about Yamada."

"I'd like to know why Yamada chose you as his victim."

"You could have said so in the first place," Ryoma said, irritated. He launched into a detailed account of tennis hierarchy, why Yamada had power as captain, and why he wanted to get back at Fuji and Tezuka.

"You don't seem like the type of person who would back down so easily," she said. She let out a forced chuckle, and Ryoma frowned. Did she actually do this kind of stuff for a living?

"I had a lot of things on my mind," he told her.

"Such as?"

"Look, I've told you everything I know about Yamada," he said. "Now do you need clarification, or are we finished?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, either not noticing or ignoring his unease. "Would you be willing to visit him, so I can have a better idea of his progress?"

"No," Ryoma snapped. "That wouldn't help either of us. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to practice."

***

Practice was terrible after that, his science exam was hell, and the Doubles 1 pairing got into a massive fight after school. All in all, it was not a very good day. Ryoma was looking forward to of going home, whining to Natsumi, and then curling up on the porch with a tennis magazine. He had just finished showering and getting dressed when his plan was ruined.

"Buchou doesn't want to see you," he heard someone say. It was coming from outside the locker room, and it sounded like Takeda.

Ryoma sighed, guessing Takeda had encountered a whiny fangirl. It was nice of Takeda to deal with them, but he didn't really need to go through all that effort. But ever since his team had gotten a hold of the location and time of the broken wrist incident – locking the clubhouse, after practice, alone – they had become something like bodyguards.

"I don't care who you are, you can come back some other time!"

At this, Ryoma stopped towel drying his hair and went to investigate. He poked his head out and was startled to find Takeda arguing with Atobe Keigo. So much for fangirls.

"Monkey King," he said flatly.

Takeda stopped protesting and anxiously whirled around. "Buchou, please don't worry about him! I'll get Ryuzaki-sensei to handle it."

"It's fine," Ryoma said tiredly. "Takeda, go home."

Atobe smirked. Takeda looked warily at the Hyotei player, and then back at his captain.

"I'm sure you have studying to do," Ryoma reminded him. "And if not, work on your backhand."

Takeda reluctantly scurried off, and Ryoma sighed and went back into the clubhouse. Atobe followed, apparently not needing an invitation.

"What a little brat," he said distastefully. "I thought I would have to deal with Fuji, and at least he's tolerable."

Ryoma frowned at the mention of Fuji and shut his locker. "What are you doing here?"

"You need new shoes."

"…what?"

"Ore-sama will accompany you to the sports store."

Ryoma looked down and thoughtfully wiggled his toes. He did need new shoes, but he only had about 4000 yen left in his wallet. And he wasn't going to spend that just to please some idiotic Monkey King.

Atobe watched him lock the clubhouse, an irritated expression on his face. "If you think you'll be playing in the finals with such a…a _disgraceful_ piece of footwear, then you are even more stupid than I thought."

After such an awful day, that was not what Ryoma needed to hear. "This may be a foreign concept to you," he hissed, glaring up the other boy, "but us commoners need to buy _food _before we can go splurging on unnecessary _crap_."

Atobe looked somewhat scandalized. "But you have finals this weekend!"

Ryoma just stared at him. "Do you seriously think that – "

"And I will be paying, of course."

Oh no. Definitely _not_. Before he could protest, Atobe was steering him towards the parking lot.

"It isn't charity, brat. Haven't we had this conversation before?"

Ryoma was about to sulk, but then caught sight of what Atobe was holding.

"Wait, you can _drive_?"

"Of course. Ore-sama would not be without such an essential skill."

He shouldn't be that surprised by it. He knew Fuji could drive. And Tezuka. And Eiji (though it was debatable whether the acrobat was "driving" or "endangering other traffic"). And Yuuta already had his learner's permit. But the reminder of the two-year age gap made him scowl.

Ryoma was betting on the red Ferrari in the corner, but Atobe stopped in front of a surprisingly normal-looking silver sedan. The license plate didn't even say anything stupid. He spent a moment just wondering how Atobe dealt with that, and then the other boy poked him. Ryoma suddenly remembered where they were going, and took a step back.

"Get in the car."

"Yadda."

"Echizen. Either you do it by yourself, or I will personally assist you."

"Tezuka-buchou will kill you," Ryoma said, and stuck out his tongue for good measure. "I'm going h – "

"Tezuka asked me to come," Atobe interrupted, smirking.

"Not possible." As Atobe's smirk widened, Ryoma narrowed his eyes and took another step back. "Why would he ask _you?_"

"He has student council or some other plebian activity. And he knows I won't be manipulated by your brat attitude."

Ryoma scowled. This was true. Eiji was easily led off track and Momo as well…Fuji was the most logical pick, but Tezuka must have noticed the tension between them.

He pulled out his phone and called his captain anyway. Tezuka picked up on the fourth ring, and Ryoma could barely hear him over the large group of people in the background. Apparently student council had strong opinions about the graduation ceremony.

"_Echizen. What do you need_?"

"Monkey King is trying to kidnap me."

"_Ah. That_." There was a bit of what sounded like static as Tezuka sighed. "_Echizen, your shoes have _holes_ in them_."

Ryoma blushed as he realized this was true. He's only gotten this pair last fall, and the tennis courts had really destroyed them. He turned away from Atobe's smug expression and tried again.

"I don't see why – "

There was a loud shout, a muffled thud and some swearing.

"Buchou?"

"_He's busy right now,"_ Oishi broke in. _"Echizen, if you do this I'll tell Eiji you're extremely busy with finals."_

Ryoma frowned. "What's Eiji got to do with it?"

"_He's trying to find you. Says there's trouble in paradise that needs fixing."_

He immediately thought of Fuji, felt his stomach twist. Okay. Did Eiji know? "_I don't _– "

_"Are you okay?" _he head Oishi call out. "_Sorry, Echizen, I've got to go. Please behave yourself."_

Dialtone. Ryoma hung up and stared bewilderedly at his phone. He really did need to smooth things over with Fuji, especially if Eiji was getting involved. But he wasn't quite sure where to start…

Atobe considered this the opportune moment to push the other boy towards the passenger seat.

"Let's go, brat."

***

"There," Atobe said, stopping in front of a silver and white pair. "Ore-sama has not personally tried this model, but the trend - "

"Oh, fantastic shoes!" a store clerk broke in. Ryoma turned to glare at her, and she flushed. "I-I mean, I haven't tried them either, but – "

"They're 30,000 yen," Ryoma said flatly. He did not appreciate pushy store clerks trying to make a sale, especially ones of the stuttering female variety. It reminded him an awful lot of his fangirls.

Atobe rolled his eyes, entirely unfazed by the price tag. "Try them on, brat."

Ryoma scowled but acquiesced, wanting this whole ideal to be finished before dinnertime. He was hungry, damn it!

"Um, you know, there are a few models with great promotions right now."

He turned to hiss at the clerk, but Atobe counteracted the effect by offering his most charming smile.

"I'd like to see them," he said, and she scurried off. Ryoma gagged.

"Funny," Atobe said drily. "What's got you in such a bad mood?"

"Well, let me think," Ryoma snapped. "Exams are hell, finals are this weekend, Fuji's not talking to me, and I'm stuck here with you buying things I don't need."

A slow smirk spread across Atobe's face, and Ryoma froze. Had he said something he shouldn't have?

"Is that why your little friend is so conspicuously absent?"

He was saved by the store clerk's breathless arrival, six boxes crammed into her arms. "These are the best on the market," she told them, "and some of them are as low as 24000 yen."

"Impressive," Atobe said, sparing a quick glance towards the pile. "I'll need a size bigger."

"Oh! Of course!" the girl exclaimed, running off again.

"So," Atobe said, turning back to Ryoma. "Did you two fight?"

Oh. Fuji.

"Not exactly," Ryoma said slowly. He reached for a different pair of shoes and tried to look busy.

He had exaggerated about Fuji not talking to him. They did talk…but both of them knew it was fake, somehow. Ryoma almost would have preferred complete silence.

"What does that even mean, brat?"

It would take time for things to go back to the way they were. A painfully long time. But…there was no reason why they couldn't go forward, instead. Ryoma had really needed time to adjust to his new life, but after thinking it over he didn't really have any objections to dating Fuji. Eiji seemed to think it was a good idea, at any rate. And Fuji was really sweet. Sometimes.

"I'm waiting," Atobe drawled impatiently.

"Shut up, Monkey King." Ryoma hastily turned his attention back to the shoes, but a slow blush had already spread across his face. Dating Fuji Syuusuke…what was he _thinking_?

Atobe seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and let out a very girlish squeal, which caused the approaching clerk to jump and Ryoma to wonder just how irritating Atobe could be in a single conversation.

"He _kissed _you, didn't he? I knew it!"

Ryoma stared open-mouthed at the other boy. Surely he wasn't that obvious. Had Eiji said something?

Atobe suddenly composed himself and turned to the clerk. "I'm sorry, but it seems we actually need a size smaller. Just the last three pairs, mind you."

She hurried off again and Ryoma muttered something about stupid, perceptive monkey kings who had _no business _pretending like it was completely unexpected.

"But it was!" Atobe insisted. "You're so_ dense_, Echizen."

"I'm not – "

"Though I suppose you did have other things on your mind," he added thoughtfully. Atobe looked at Ryoma and suddenly frowned. "You should be happier, though. People would kill to date Fuji Syuusuke. I wouldn't, of course."

"We're not dating!" Ryoma finally managed to get out.

A brief pause, and then…

"What do you mean, _you're not dating_?" Atobe fairly shrieked. "Have you lost your mind?!"

"No," Ryoma said hotly. "But I'm not going to start dating someone who will end it a week later. You know perfectly well what kind of relationships Fuji's had, and I'm not getting involved."

"So he plays with people," Atobe said dismissively. "He wouldn't do that to you."

"You don't know that," Ryoma snapped. He checked the price on the pair of shoes he was holding. The sooner he could get out of here, the better.

"But – but he's head over heels for you!"

Before Ryoma could point out how illogical Atobe was being, the store clerk approached them for the fourth time.

"The promotion we have – "

"We're _done_," Ryoma informed her. "Now go away."

"You're sure you don't want – "

"Go _away_,_" _he repeated, making his annoyance clear.

"That wasn't very polite," Atobe said, following Ryoma to the check out. "You ought to be a bit more diplomatic when dealing with the public."

"Doesn't matter," Ryoma muttered. He didn't have the energy to deal with this. And once Tezuka was finished with student council, he would be receiving a call detailing just _how _annoying Atobe could be.

Atobe slid his credit card across the counter, apparently approving his choice of footwear. "It must be an issue of communication," he told Ryoma. "And you really shouldn't doubt Fuji's intentions."

"Don't be such a freaking girl," Ryoma said, irritated. "I don't want to talk about it."

Atobe ignored him, as usual. "I mean, he offered you a place to _live_ – "

"Tezuka would have done the same."

" – and he even shows you his triple counters if it gives him a chance to play with you – "

"This has nothing to do with tennis."

" – really, you should have seen him during that whole Yamada incident – "

"We're _friends_._"_

"Not to mention the way you look at him – "

"Just _shut up_," Ryoma finally snapped. "It's never going to happen, and that's the end of it."

***

* * *

cutting this off at 4,000 words.

atobe is pretty much everywhere in this story. and how often did he interrupt ryoma in this chapter? 60 times?

sigh...this chapter is a bit slow. it's really just groundwork for other stuff. with the fujiryo, nanako and yamada subplots i get so confused. all three of them will come to some sort of resolution...i think....this story will probably wrap up in 2-3 chapters (maybe 3-4 because i'm bad at estimating).

next chapter: something like a date, nanako drama and possibly more of takashima.

p.s. we have reached 40,000 words!


	13. in which ryoma gets some bad news :

at the end of this story i will flail around, pm my favorite reviewers, and ask them what i should write next. any pairing.

that is because i am your slave, and i love you.

read:::::!

* * *

"Echizen!"

The shrill voice reminded him where he was, and Ryoma picked his head off the desk and glanced at his teacher. He'd been thinking about Fuji. Again. It was a bit strange, really…

"Echizen Ryoma!"

Ryoma glanced up again, confused. He was sitting perfectly straight, his best attentive expression in place, and a sheet of notes in front of him. They were notes about Nationals, of course, but she couldn't tell that from where she was standing.

"Horio! Pay attention!"

It wasn't just him, then. Maeda-sensei was in total bitch mode for no apparent reason.

Ryoma yawned and ignored the note Horio passed him. It was their last day of school, and most of the teachers had goodbye parties and allowed their students to stuff themselves with cake. But Maeda-sensei, of course, had some stupid plan of going over the answers to their final exam. They would get their scores within the next week, so no one seemed to care very much.

"Echizen, please list the differences between plant and animals cells on the board," Maeda snapped. "Many of you failed miserably at this point in the exam, not to mention…"

Ryoma tuned her out and went to the board, scratching out something about cell walls versus cell membranes. Absently, he wondered if she was still holding that cell phone incident over his head.

Well, fuck.

"Now, the _proper _answer to question 47 – "

"No one fucking cares," someone moaned from the back.

Two spots of color appeared on Maeda's cheeks. "I can still give detentions!" she said shrilly.

Ryoma rolled his eyes and finished labeling his diagram. "I'm finished, sensei."

Maeda examined the board and pressed her lips into a thin line. "Do you call this writing, Echizen?"

He hated kanji. He really did. He'd grown up speaking Japanese but not necessarily _writing _it, and the stupid subtleties of it went right over his head. But he'd drawn a diagram, and there was no fucking way to misinterpret that.

"Would you like me to explain it?" he ground out.

"That's not necessary," Maeda said sweetly. "I only hope your penmanship is a bit more…_clear_ on your exam."

Ryoma stared at her, incredulous. "You can't – "

"Hello, Maeda," a new voice cut in. "It's so good to see you, as always."

Ryoma turned to the doorway and promptly dropped his chalk. The class welcomed the newcomer with a good deal of excited shrieking, but Maeda appeared too shocked to quiet them.

"A _high schooler _– "

" – during Nationals our freshmen year – "

"And valedictorian, I think – "

"That's not just any high schooler, that's – "

"Fuji Syuusuke!"

Fuji was leaning quite nonchalantly against the doorframe, as if it were perfectly normal to have a social visit in the middle of a lesson. As Maeda stuttered out a greeting, he swept his eyes over the classroom, smirk widening as he caught Ryoma's expression.

No freaking way.

"A-ah, Fuji-kun," Maeda finally got out. "What an…unexpected pleasure."

Fuji grinned, showing a surprising amount of even, white teeth. "Isn't it? Not to mention school's out in a few hours. You should be happier, Maeda-sensei."

The rest of the class exchanged gleeful looks at the sudden shift of power, and Ryoma couldn't help but laugh at Maeda's expression. It seemed she was well-acquainted with Fuji's sadistic tendencies. If only Fuji had been in their class…

"Aren't you…well, you're supposed to be in school," Maeda said weakly.

"I am, yes," Fuji said bluntly. "Would you mind if I took Ryoma with me?"

Maeda seemed to recover, knowing this was against the rules. "You can't just – "

"I can't?" Fuji repeated, frowning innocently. "Why, Maeda-sensei, I thought I had removed that word from your vocabulary."

"But – "

Another slow, wide smile. "You remember the _special _year we had, don't you?"

Maeda paled and pointed a shaky hand to the door. "Echizen, go."

"What?" Had she really just dismissed him?

"Take me with you!" Horio suddenly shrieked. With that, the whole class broke out into an uproar.

"Echizen, 20,000 yen if you get me out of here!"

"30,000!"

"Fuji-senpai! Take with me you and I'll do anything you want! I'll have your children!"

Fuji looked highly amused, but Ryoma ignored them and turned to Maeda. There was no way in hell he would fail this class because of her. "Sensei, if you have any problems with my handwriting – "

Maeda swallowed, as if the words physically pained her. "Actually, you got an A. Now _please_ leave."

Ryoma smirk was wide enough to rival Fuji's. "Goodbye, Maeda-sensei."

"Goodbye, mini-highschoolers!" Fuji added. "And it was absolutely wonderful to see you, sensei."

"Wait! I'll have your children and Echizen's too!"

***

"That," Ryoma said, looking suspiciously at another customer's order, "is not ice-cream."

"It's good, I promise," Fuji said, laughing at the other boy's expression. He'd said they were going out for ice-cream, but he ended up taking Ryoma to an organic café that specialized in "frozen yogurt".

"I can't believe I'm skipping school for this…_stuff_."

"I'm sorry, Ryoma. Would you like to go back to Maeda's class?"

"Yadda!"

It was enough, really, to be here with the other boy. He wasn't exactly happy, but he was content. And if Ryoma never returned his feelings, he could survive life, being content.

But how often had he wished to hold Ryoma, to comfort him, to listen as Ryoma opened up to him and gave him all the privileges of a lover. He tried not to show it, but he was hurt by the distance between them. He wanted so badly to take a step forward, but he could never, ever force Ryoma to do the same. Friendship would have to be enough.

Fuji beat the other boy to the cash register, putting down enough for his mocha yogurt and Ryoma's green tea. He had caught the other boy carefully examining the price tag on his new shoes, and he knew Ryoma didn't have access to a bank account while his parents away.

Ryoma, of course, caught sight of the motion and glared at him. "This isn't a date, you know."

He did know. But it was even more painful to see the way Ryoma looked at him, clearly horrified. "I mean…um…Fuji-senpai..."

Fuji closed his eyes, wishing he would just say it. _I don't love you, and I never will, so leave me alone._

But instead, Ryoma said, very gently: "Can we talk?"

They settled into a booth in the corner, and Fuji tried to prepare himself for another round of heartbreak.

Ryoma got straight to the point. "Do you remember when we…um…kissed?"

Fuji nodded, and focused on his frozen yogurt, trying to contain the urge to lean across the table and do something Ryoma wouldn't like. Such as placing his hand over the other boy's to stop his fidgeting, or kiss him again to stop him from saying…

"Can we forget that ever happened?"

But that was not what Ryoma said. Far from it. He only dropped his gaze and muttered.

"You didn't give me much of a chance, you know."

What?

"I...I just wasn't sure if you were serious."

"Why would you think that?" Fuji said quietly. If his heart was already breaking, there wasn't any reason not to shatter it completely.

"Because," Ryoma answered, squirming. "I didn't want you to get bored and leave. Like you do with other people."

It hurt. And he wanted to go back and change everything he'd ever done. Just to show Ryoma…"I would never, ever do anything to hurt you!"

"I know," Ryoma said carefully, and Fuji was shocked into silence for the second time that day. "I was just caught up in a lot of things, and I needed time to think."

He was lost. Hopelessly and completely lost. Surely Ryoma wasn't saying…

"If we take things slowly…"

Fuji went very, very still.

" – there's no reason why – "

He was cut off by the loud, jarring ring of his cell phone. Ryoma dropped his gaze and fumbled for his schoolbag, intent on silencing it, but then he realized who was calling.

"I'm…I'm so sorry."

***

"Moshi moshi," he said carefully, hoping this was a mistake, that his father was awake for some stupid, funny reason. Perhaps he had forgotten one of his stupid porn magazines, he remembered Nationals were tomorrow…maybe, just maybe, he was flying home. And Ryoma could hang up without a second thought, turn back to Fuji, and they would look back and laugh on the way they finally got together.

"_Ryoma…_" his father said shakily, and Ryoma felt his stomach twist.

"Is everything okay?"

"_It's not good. Everything's okay, really. But there's a small chance…more than a small chance that…well, I don't want you to worry, seishounen.._."

"Stop it," Ryoma heard himself say, his voice at a strange and frantic pitch. "Mom? Is mom there? Can someone tell me what's wrong?"

His mom was a hysterical, stuttering mess, but she didn't dance around the issue the way his father did. "_Nanako's scans didn't turn out so well_."

"Please, Mom," Ryoma said, and he could feel forming in his eyes. He was such a baby. He didn't even know what was wrong.

"_T-The doctors say they want to a-amputate her leg_."

"Amputate her leg?" he repeated, and the English word was heavy and sick in his mouth. He was relieved, in a way, but a moment later he was overwhelmed by the horror. How could they take away a part of someone like that? "Can I...can I talk to her?"

It was only a minute ago that he had been happy, but he was so far away now…it wasn't fair. He felt Fuji's hand cover his own, cool and reassuring. It helped, somehow, and Ryoma took a deep, calming breath. 

"_I-I don't want them to do it_!" he heard his cousin say, hysterical tears mixing with her words. "_I c-can't even explain –_ "

"I know," Ryoma said immediately. He glanced down at his cast, the temporary injury suddenly put into cruel perspective. "Oneesan...I'll always love you, no matter what happens."

"_L-let's talk about something else_," Nanako said desperately. "_I got your letter. The semi-finals are this weekend."_

"Yes," Ryoma said. Tennis. He needed to get away. An ocean wasn't far enough. But he couldn't. "I'm playing Singles 1"

"_You're going to win, right_?" she said. She was desperate, so desperate, and there was fear in every inch of her voice. It was the fear of someone who was having their life taken away from them, bit by bit.

How could this happen?

How could they win, against something like this?

"_You always win, Ryoma_," Nanako said. "_And when you do, it's always_ - "

" - mada mada dane," he finished for her. "I'll win, I promise."

"_They want me to go now_," she said. "_But…are you sure you can win?_"

His promise was empty. So empty. There was nothing more he could do. Ryoma said nothing, just felt the tears run down his cheeks and tried to remember how to breathe.

"I love you, oneechan," he said.

She was gone.

***

_In his dreams, he saw Nanako lying prone on the floor of the kitchen. She was dead. She carefully sawed off Ryoma's leg and made him promise not to tell anyone. Ryoma screamed for his parents but they could not hear. _

_"Why do you always ask for help?" Nanako rasped. Her eyes glinted, and then her hair shrunk back into her skull until it was a sickening, writhing bulge underneath the skin. It dug bloody paths inside her body, finally bursting out of her mouth and falling onto the tile. The sun bleached it a beautiful honey color, and suddenly Fuji was sitting on the counter._

_"There's no hope," he said, picking up the kitchen knife. "You have seen they have cut off her hair. Next will be her legs, her fingers, her arms, her stomach…"_

_Ryoma watched in horror as the knife slit through his cousin's bones, chopping them into smaller and smaller pieces. Soon only her head remained, her once-beautiful face stretched taught and ugly with sickness. _

_Fuji lifted the knife, and Ryoma screamed, already knowing what would happen. _

_"You did this," Fuji said sadly. He plunged the knife into Nanako's eye, and then Fuji was the one in the hospital bed. _

_"I wanted to tell you I loved you," Ryoma heard himself way._

_But he was already dead. _

***

It was not Ryoma Echizen who went to Nationals that Saturday.

It was a ghost.

A ghost with strikingly pale skin, graceful, shaking movements under the bright sun, and only three words of encouragement for his team.

"We can win."

His team knew little about what was going on, but they supported their captain the best they could. They were up against the powerfully wealthy Okawa Academy, where each of the members had monogrammed jerseys, and refined playing styles that only came from hours of private lessons.

The Okawa players were also curiously disinterested in each other, and their sloppy teamwork was evident in both doubles matches. But they made up for it in singles, where all three players boasted undefeated records. Ryoma's team played their hearts out to secure a 3-0 sweep, but couldn't secure a victory in either Singles 3 or 2. Singles 1 was scheduled for noon.

"Echizen," Eiji said, dropping the nickname for the first time in three years. "Some things are more important than tennis. You really don't have to play."

But he did.

***

It was later said to be the quietest game of tennis ever played. The Okawa crowd seemed to be strangely above cheering, sitting with their hands placed neatly in their laps and knowing smiles.

The Seigaku supporters only watched and waited. They were no longer there for the tennis. There was no data collected during the match, no commentary between teammates. It was all in the moment.

The only sound was the sliding of their tennis shoes across the pavement, the clear reverberations of their rackets.

Ryoma was listening. Serve. Hit. Point.

Serve.

The human body was truly an amazing thing. He could jump, dive, twist, _move _in so many ways. He was the only one who could set his limits.

Hit.

How could he miss any of the balls in such a small court?

Point.

The way he bent his knees was how high he could jump, the angle of his wrist was the direction of the ball. The arch of his feet could give him speed, the shifting of his weight was balance.

The control he had was how he won.

"Game Seigaku. 6-2."

***

* * *

this chapter is my shortest so far but i absolutely had to cut it off (before i completely lost myself/the story in angstville). and it started out so fluffy!

the writing is also a bit different than my usual. i kind of like it. i know ryoma is super emotional about the whole amputation business, but it's pretty fucking terrifying. to me, anyway. i hope you can kind of understand the struggle...feeling helpless, etc.

next chapter: ryoma visits yamada, tries to get takashima to give his captain position to tezuka, takes a love quiz with eiji, actually kisses fuji again (zomg yes) and then we get some nice closure.

i'm not sure that will all fit, but it's coming.

* * *

p.s.

all authors, at some point in their career, will shamelessly whore themselves for reviews. that time is now.

to the 150+ people who have this story on story alert:

REVIEW. PLEASE.

i want to hear if you like the direction this story is taking! (and i really really want to reach that 100 reviews milestone)

/end bitching.


	14. in which ryoma visits yamada

so many reviews for one chapter...i almost peed myself! kisses for:

CynicalDream, Artic-Fox 14, AkaKitsune133, GataAgua, mana1134, elex88, Empress Satori, OliveInk, Kuroki-Ryomi, 1xmocha, xbleedinglotusx, tomphi, Sapphirewood, animesrule9, kumalu01, WinglessDreams, ryoka-chan, Sugoi Sugiru Obocchama, thfourteenth, JacksBoonie, NoLeaveItButTakeIt (hahaha i love the name!), Youkai Kisaki, Bankotsu's Sexy Bunny Girl

okay, i know it's not very special to have your name in a list, but it's also not very special for me to write you a crappy two words (thank you!) pm. i hope to get around to real messages with in the next couple days. but for now, just know, that i am writing this story for you, there is no one in the world more special than you, and i FREAKING LOVE YOU.

sd'gfoijsafd;cnlmcoitjrdsaf;lcjmsd;lgithfvns;ldkfjdlkwp40t9uirjesdpfovma'sdp0t5984urw[0ujfwmaesdoi58ti395'hjnv;osdisxt5u05re09djnvewa;osl!whire9tpghejnfoxdirhjvnt8dfoixtjgnrvtediofzxthfngrvf

does this keymash convey the depth of my gratitude?

what about this extra-long chapter?

* * *

After that, the courts exploded into noise. High fives and screams and camera flashes…because this was _real. _ Countless hours of practice, and this is what is amounted to. They had proven their determination to friends and family, to all of Japan.

_They had won. _

"We…we did it," Ryoma whispered. He looked at the expectant faces of his team, wanting to talk to them – thank them for _listening_, for surprising him with their spirit, their strength, for helping him get through today. But he couldn't find the words.

"We know, buchou!" Takeda shrieked, launching into a hug.

Then came handshakes and hugs and kisses, and the victory finally sunk in. He knew he couldn't be more proud - he had put so much sweat and blood into this team, spending almost every evening going over schedules and drills and lineups. And in the end, it was his team that pulled him through.

"Oi! Echizen!"

"Ochibi!"

His world suddenly tilted sideways, and from the squealing in his ear it appeared to Eij's fault.

" Get off him, Eiji-senpai!" he heard Momo say, but Momo also appeared to have the same goal of suffocating him.

"Alright, that's enough."

Momo and Eiji immediately let go, and Ryoma scowled at them before meeting Tezuka's gaze. His former captain was even smiling a bit as they shook hands.

"It was a good year, Echizen. You did well as captain."

Ryoma caught his breath at that, hardly believing that _Tezuka, _of all people, thought that of him. It was the best compliment he'd ever received_._

"Buchou, I – "

"BURNING! ECHIZEN, YOU'RE ON FIRE!"

"Congratulations," Inui put in. "As usual, your playing style surpassed all data to secure victory. Even though modifications were made for your broken wrist, I obviously did not take into account – "

" – HOT, BABY! BURNING LIKE FIRE!"

"You played well," Kaidoh grunted. They shook hands, and Ryoma was almost positive his senpai was actually _proud _of him.

"Your team says you're an absolutely wonderful captain," Oishi said, a wide smile on his face. "I believe it, too. I'm looking forward to – "

"CONGRATULATIONS! BUUUURNING!"

Oishi's smile suddenly looked rather strained. "The game is over, Taka. There's no need for the racket - ah, just give it here…"

That left Fuji. He said nothing, but Ryoma could tell the happiness in eyes was genuine.

Ryoma hesitated, fighting the urge to launch into an Eiji-style hug and tell the truth - because maybe Fuji didn't want that anymore. But then he had to focus on breathing, because Fuji swept him up into a hug, and Ryoma thought, again, that he would stay there forever. Just like that, the noise of the crowd lost in the sound of Fuji's heartbeat, the tiredness in his muscles forgotten as Fuji pulled him closer.

Forever ended all too soon. Fuji pulled back, smiling, and Ryoma looked into those blue eyes with a mixture of regret and happiness. It ended when he looked away, realizing Momo was trying to talk to him.

"The after party, Echizen, everyone's leaving. "

"I'll…I'll meet up with you later," Ryoma said slowly. "There's something I have to do."

Momo stared, open-mouthed, at the middle schooler. "You can't do that! You're the captain, this is practically _your party_! And what could – _"_

"I have to talk to someone," Ryoma said abruptly, reaching for his tennis bag.

"But – "

Surprisingly, it was Kaidoh who came to his rescue. "You have all summer to celebrate, baka."

"Don't wait up," Ryoma told them, pulling out his phone. As he walked towards the exit, he glanced back one last time at his team. Tezuka looked so understanding, Fuji was so gentle…it almost hurt, what he was about to do.

***

He did not call Nanako.

The phone call was for information only. He got the address to the Riveredge Psychiatric Center, and caught the next bus heading west.

With the championship safely behind them, Yamada should have no more threats to give. Only answers. But there were so many questions…

_Maybe this isn't such a good idea..._

By the third stop, Ryoma was imagining his friends' reactions if they discovered where he had gone. He wondered if he should have told them, but quickly dismissed the thought. It was a tossup whether Eiji or Momo would get him in a death grip first, but Momo would undoubtedly be yelling at him to "stop acting so fucking stupid". Or something along those lines.

Of course, he'd also be running laps for the rest of the summer. It was bad enough convincing Tezuka to accept his "I fell" excuse, but explaining his sudden need to visit Yamada? Yeah, that would go over spectacularly well. Fuji's reaction was even more dangerous territory, but he was saved further contemplation as a woman suddenly settled down on the seat to his left. She smiled at him, primly rearranged her purse and began scanning the newspaper.

That's right. He was on a bus, with not one of his friends in sight. He should be thankful for that, but the more irrational part of his mind wanted someone there with him. Fuji would have been good company, once he finished all his dangerous smiling and accepted where they were going .

No. That was stupid. He depended on Fuji for too much already.

It wasn't like he was afraid of Yamada. He couldn't do anything to Ryoma, now. And people who won National Championships were not afraid of simple hospital visits.

The bus was fast approaching Riveredge Psychiatric Center, so Ryoma shouldered his tennis bag and prepared to get off. The woman who had sat next to him flicked her eyes to the sign, and then back at him. What was that? Disgust? Pity? Fear?

It didn't matter, anyway. He wasn't doing this for her.

***

Atobe took a sip of his punch and tried to hide his disgust. The punch was okay, but this…silly inconvenience was not. "That's not the point," he said icily, cutting Momo off mid-rant. Another social faux pas, but who was counting? "You don't just let someone walk away from _their own party._"

"It's not his party, entirely," Momo managed to get out.

He was clearly unsettled by the Hyotei player, which pleased Atobe. If he could silence this bumbling idiot, his intimidation techniques were almost as good as Tezuka's. "Oh, now I understand," he said sarcastically. "Echizen was only team captain, and winner of the determining match. How silly of me to think he actually mattered."

It was so much _fun _to toy with the Seigaku players. Momo face was roughly the color of a tomato as he ground out a response. "Listen here, _Monkey King – _"

"_Monkey King?!_" Atobe fairly shrieked. "What gives you the right to address ore-sama in such a manner?! You _stupid_, uncreative – "

"Saa…more punch, Atobe?"

Both of them fell silent, gaping wordlessly at the new arrival.

"No thanks," Atobe answered, breaking the awkward silence. He suddenly remembered why he didn't like tormenting the Seigaku players. He just couldn't get away with it…not when Fuji Syuusuke was around.

For his part, Fuji looked rather pleased. "If you had said yes, I would have made you get the punch yourself."

Momo laughed, loudly and nervously, and began to edge away. Fuji's expression made it perfectly clear that Atobe did not have the same luxury.

"Echizen is attending to a personal matter," Fuji said, once Momo was out of earshot. His eyes were very sharp in the sunlight, and Atobe tried not to look uneasy.

"Something about his cousin, I presume?"

Fuji nodded. "There was a bit of a complication last night."

Atobe hesitated. "Nothing too bad?"

Fuji's expression darkened. "It depends…" he trailed off, frowning at someone in the crowd. "Tezuka wants something."

Without another word he took off, and Atobe, never one to be left out of the action, followed.

***

It was a place of sickness. It was always the same, whether it was physical or mental.

He passed two teenagers crying over a blank-eyed little girl. A nurse giving a lecture to a group of pale, stringy-haired skeletons. And then, a doctor pushing by him, fumbling for a pager and offering no apology. Ryoma understood.

"Saitou Ayane, please?" he inquired at the desk. The receptionist did not look up, staring at her phone as if it were a lifeline.

"Do you have an appointment?" she finally mumbled. She sat stiffly, curled in on herself, hesitantly breathing the air around her.

"No," Ryoma answered.

"Hold please." She reached for the phone in front of her, ignoring the scream echoing from the hallway. Ryoma watched, horrified and fascinated by her detachment. He wondered if that's how she survived.

"Your name?" the girl asked him.

"Echizen Ryoma."

She jabbed at the volume button, trying to hear over the screaming. Ryoma caught snatches of their conversation, and it seemed bleak until the receptionist mentioned his name. "Of course, I'll send him right up."

The girl hung up and returned her gaze to the floor. "Seventh floor. Take the elevator on the right, and follow the signs to room 717. Your bag?"

"What?" His tennis bag?

"Security check," she clarified. She zipped it uninterestedly, but paused when she caught sight of the rackets. A long moment passed, and Ryoma wondered if she would say something. But she only sighed and pushed the bag back towards him. "A reminder that this is a non smoking facility. Please refrain from using your cell phone."

With that said, she returned to her texting. Ryoma rode the elevator with nervous energy, thinking about which words to say and which ones to avoid.

Saitou pounced on him as soon as the elevator doors open. "Ah, Echizen. It's wonderful to see you! Yamada has mentioned you quite a few times already – wait, you are here to visit Yamada, aren't you?"

Ryoma only nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Yamada had mentioned him before…what did that mean? He wanted to apologize? Break his other wrist? Hurt his friends?

"This way, Echizen."

***

This was the boy who refused to let Tezuka be captain.

This was the boy who caused Fuji to quit the tennis team.

This was the boy who had made him promise he would never play tennis again.

But he didn't look like it. Yamada was sitting on the bed, staring at the window. There was a bouquet of tulips there, but he was looking beyond, to the gray expanse of a rooftop. He didn't seem very impressed with it. He didn't seem happy, or sad, or much of anything, really.

"Yamada-kun, I brought you a visitor," Saitou said cheerfully. The words cut awkwardly in the silence, but Yamada didn't look up. "Don't you see who it is? It's your friend, Echizen."

Friend? Was that the right word for their relationship? Ryoma didn't even know anymore. He tried not to look anxious as Yamada swung his head around in a slow, deliberate movement. They stared at each other, Yamada's expression blank while Ryoma struggled to make his face equally emotionless.

"I want to talk to him alone," Yamada suddenly announced. His voice was rough from disuse, but Ryoma still recognized that steely undertone. It was what Tezuka used, as captain, but darker.

"Talk?" Saitou babbled. She seemed overjoyed at the idea, and Ryoma wondered what things were like here. "Well, talk away."

"Alone," Yamada repeated. Saitou frowned, and Ryoma was glad for her refusal. He wasn't ready for that, just yet.

"I won't do anything. Besides, you can watch from the monitor." He flicked his eyes to the camera in the corner, and assumed a look of false innocence.

To Ryoma's horror, Saitou fell for it. "Communication is, of course, one of our goals here," she said, beaming. "I'm so happy you've started talking to your friends." Before Ryoma could get a word in edgewise, she was gone.

Yamada sprawled back on the bed, looking a little more like a teenager and less like a prisoner. "So, what trick did that bitch use on you?"

Ryoma's eyes widened in surprise, then confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"To get you to visit," Yamada clarified. "Saitou must have done something."

"Um, no," Ryoma said gingerly. "Well, we…talked, earlier this week. But I came here from Nationals, because I wanted…" What did he want? An apology?

"Strange," was all Yamada said, turning his gaze back to the window. He did not at all look dangerous. Just thin, tired, lonely…Ryoma tried to feel the slightest hint of anger, but it was impossible.

"There's no radio here," Yamada said suddenly. "Did you win your match?"

"Yes," Ryoma said, sinking into the chair next to the window. "6-2."

No radio. Ryoma looked around the room, took in the blankness of the walls and the empty desk. It reminded of him of a hospital. He supposed they were at a hospital, in a way.

"You're sick," he blurted out, before he could stop himself. It was just so surprising, to view Yamada as a patient.

Yamada only shrugged. "That's what they say." He tapped his fingers on the bed, as if contemplating something. "I tell them my parents beat me."

Ryoma bit his lip, tried and failed to swallow his immediate frustration. "Is that supposed to be an excuse?"

He felt terrible after he said this. Maybe it had been a long, painful process for Yamada to admit this, to entrust someone with his secret. Ryoma opened his mouth to apologize for his cruel response, but hesitated. There was something strange in Yamada's eyes…something that didn't quite fit.

"You're lying."

Yamada sat up, and his amused smirk confirmed it. "I'm impressed, Echizen. You catch on much quicker than Saitou."

"You're _playing _with them," Ryoma snapped. For the first time, he felt anger – anger that Yamada could do so much harm and get away with it. "It's not helping anyone."

"It's helping me," Yamada countered. "Saitou thinks we've made tremendous progress. I'll be out of here within a month."

This was all wrong. Everything he'd thought in the past hour had been turned upside down and inside out and then back again. And he still wasn't any closer to figuring things out. "I could tell Saitou this, you know."

"I don't care," Yamada said dismissively. "I'll make a new story, pretend it's the truth. They'll swallow it soon enough."

His phone rang, but Ryoma made no move to answer it. He just sat there, trying to understand what he'd learned. He knew he was safe, for now. Yamada viewed him as a tool, something to play nice with and prove he had gotten over his issues. But what would he do once he was released?

"One missed call," Yamada announced. He had dug through Ryoma's tennis bag and was now staring intently at Ryoma's cell phone. "Atobe Keigo…I remember him."

He tossed the phone to Ryoma, who caught it with tangible relief. It wasn't about Nanako, then.

Yamada sneered at the other boy's expression. "You still think your cousin is going to make it?"

Before Ryoma could formulate a question – something along the lines of _how the fuck do you know about that_? – his phone rang again. Ryoma bit his lip and silenced the call, deciding Fuji would have to wait.

"Don't look so surprised," Yamada told his stunned visitor. "Rumors are started all the time, and I know this one's true."

"How?" Ryoma felt a little sick. Fuji wouldn't have told, right? Maybe something he had said to Momo, or someone from Nanako's university. Whichever way Yamada had found out, Ryoma didn't like it.

They were interrupted as his phone rang for a third time. Ryoma answered it, fervently hoping it wasn't some sort of an emergency. Atobe, Fuji, and now Tezuka.

"_Where are you, Echizen_?"

"Um," Ryoma said, scrambling for an appropriate answer. "Hello, buchou."

A shuffling noise, and then some swearing in the background. Tezuka continued, still sounding perfectly unconcerned. "_Horio says you got on a bus."_

There was no point in denying it now. "Yes," Ryoma said, hoping that would be enough.

"_Where did you go?_"

"I'm fine," Ryoma said, not really answering the question. He could hear Atobe in the background, demanding answers. "I'm sorry, buchou, but it's not a good time. I'll call you later." He hung up before Tezuka could say anything else, and immediately regretted it.

"That's right, Echizen," Yamada said, his smirk widening. "You shouldn't ignore your friends. They're all you have left, now that you're family is worried about poor, sick Nanako."

"How do you – "

"Sh, don't worry," Yamada cut in, a strange expression in his eyes. "I'll come and help you. I know what it's like."

It was too much. Ryoma turned and fled, Yamada's smug words still echoing in his mind.

_Saitou thinks we've made tremendous progress. I'll be out of here within a month._

***

Fuji was _angry. _He could hear Ryoma putting away his tennis bag, and his anger only intensified. He had so many things to say: about trust, about selfishness, about how_ worried _he'd been. About how he'd thought Ryoma had gone to America, and how unfair it was he would even have to _think _that.

Two things stopped him from taking his anger out on Ryoma. The first was Yuuta kicking him under the table, hard enough to bruise. This, in turn, made him realize the second thing: Ryoma's expression.

Gone was the confidence and pride of someone who had won the National championships. The shyness, the sorrow was back…because Ryoma was still coming to terms with the fact his cousin – his family, his life – was changing forever.

Ryoma slid into the chair without looking at anyone. Fuji felt his anger dissipate – replaced by horror as his mother stood up and abruptly slapped the back of Ryoma's head.

"Where were you?" she snapped.

Hands went up to clutch emerald hair, golden eyes widened in shock. Another day, Fuji might have laughed, but it was today and Fuji couldn't stand it. Why would his mother do that? Fuji knew the slaps didn't hurt, but it was something Natsumi only did when she was absolutely livid. Ryoma didn't need that, not now…

"Kaasan!"

"Don't!"

"You didn't – "

"I am talking!" she said icily. The two Fuji children fell silent, and even Hajime shrank back. They knew from experience that Natsumi couldn't be stopped, not when she had something to say.

"Please – "

"I will not tolerate _one more word _from you, Syuusuke. Is that clear?"

Fuji nodded, but his eyes were wide and anxious.

"Echizen is a part of this family and I do not let my children go _cavorting_ all over the city without_ letting someone know_." Natsumi glared especially hard at Syuusuke and Yuuta, as if daring them to argue. There was only silence, so she turned to address Ryoma.

"Imagine _my_ feelings when Yuuta and Syuusuke tore into the house a half hour late for dinner – and worried that you disappeared!"

"I told them not to wait up," Ryoma said weakly. "You could have started without me." It was the wrong thing to say.

Natsumi made a strangled sort of scream and grabbed Ryoma by the shoulders. "This is not about being late for dinner! This is about _your personal safety_."

She tightened her grip, and Ryoma came to dazed sort of realization: _Natsumi had been worried about him._ He tried not to let his happiness show, but it had been a long time since his own mother had shown she cared. Ryoma met her gaze and tried to look contrite. "I didn't think – "

"A simple phonecall, Ryoma, would have fixed everything." She sighed and let him go, and everyone started breathing again. "You are only fourteen. Start acting like it."

"I'm sorry," Ryoma said honestly. "I promise I'll call next time."

"Family dinner starts at 6:00 sharp on Saturday nights," she reminded him, settling back into her chair. "Don't be late next time."

"Where were you?" Yuuta asked curiously, figuring he was allowed to speak again.

Everyone was waiting for an answer, and so Ryoma sighed and gave them one. "At the hospital."

Yuuta was taken aback. "Nanako isn't in Japan, is she?"

"I was visiting someone else," he said listlessly. He let them think that it was someone he'd met while visiting Nanako, because he didn't know how to explain (_You know that boy who broke my wrist and then Fuji-senpai went and beat up? Well, I just wanted some closure or something. I don't know. _Oh, that would go over splendidly).

Sensing his dark mood, Natsumi thoughtfully changed the subject to her work. She talked about some new physical therapy techniques for awhile, and then Hajime about his latest article, and then Yuuta about the final he'd bombed.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Hajime said. He went to the counter and returned with three official-looking manila envelopes. Yuuta caught sight of the St. Rudolph logo on one and immediately made a grab for it. Hajime, however, was quicker, and jerked them out of reach.

"This one says 'To the parent/guardian of Fuji Syuusuke'," Hajime teased. Ryoma thought his smirk looked very Fuji-like at that moment. "Well, I guess I should open it."

"Just give me mine!" Yuuta protested. "I'll tell you what my English grade is, but I just want to see it first!"

"'To the parent/guardian of Fuji Yuuta'," Hajime said, his smirk widening. "Bad luck, Yuuta, this one is also for me."

Yuuta successfully retrieved the last one. "Ne, Ryoma, we've got yours too! Dad, I'll trade you – " His success was short-lived, as Natsumi reached over and plucked the envelope from his grasp.

"'To the parent/guardian of Echizen Ryoma'," was all Natsumi said. "Hm…it's still for us."

"Yuuta, maybe you'll have to repeat freshmen English," Fuji said gleefully. He had somehow acquired his own envelope, and was in the process of opening it. "I offered to help, but no – "

"No teasing about grades, and that's final," Hajime said. "Yuuta, Ryoma, here are yours. No surprises, I hope."

"Depends on what you mean by surprises," Yuuta said glumly. "For instance, I'd love to be surprised by a passing English grade."

Ryoma turned his attention to his own envelope. The cover envelope was the same as it had been every year, and he discarded it quickly. Blah blah blah, it's the end of the year, your kid did fine, please continue the "Seigaku experience" in high school, etc. etc…

Flipping to the next page, Ryoma was surprised to see his grades were damn near perfect. Even after all that had happened…well, the teachers must have cut him some slack. He noted with some satisfaction his science overall was a 96.6%. So there, Maeda-sensei. Perfect 100% in English, 99.8% in gym, 97.9% in Japanese history…the lowest grade he had was a 94.6% in math. How did that happen?

"Syuusuke, I'm so proud of you!" Natsumi exclaimed. She swooped down to kiss her middle child on the cheek, and Syuusuke accepted it with a sideways smirk at Yuuta.

"And Yuuta, you too! A C+ in English is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact – "

"Not as good as Syuusuke," Yuuta muttered.

"Oh, don't say that, dear! Look, you scored much higher than him in math." She cast a disgruntled look at Fuji. "Syuusuke, you really must learn respect. She took off five percent for your attitude."

"An overall 97.7% in English," Syuusuke said smugly, ignoring his mother's remark. "Is much, much higher than – "

"What did I say, Hajime interrupted, "about – "

"What did you get in English, Ryoma?" Yuuta cut in, looking eagerly towards the younger boy. "I know you're good at it – please tell me your overall was 98."

"Um, 100?" he said tentatively. He didn't quite believe it himself, because teachers were prone to taking off points for the smallest things – not dotting an I, not pausing after a comma, putting the stress on the wrong syllable. Even Ryoma, as a native speaker, had to be careful.

"What?!" Yuuta screamed out, jerking the paper towards him. "Oh, I don't believe it, you actually beat aniki in his best subject! By over 2% - this is _gold_!"

Ryoma chanced a look at Fuji, who only looked highly, highly amused.

"Wait just a minute," Hajime cut in. "You're being very rude – "

Yuuta ignored him, still gloating over Ryoma's superior grade. "I'll buy you Ponta for the rest of the summer if you'll let me frame this. And hang it in his room! With little letters – _mada mada dane_ – "

"Excuse me, I'll be doing the framing in this house," Natsumi said, snatching the report card out of Yuuta's hands.

"Um, the middle school finals aren't really that much," Ryoma tried. "Just little ones, to prepare us for high school. And I'm a native speaker, so it's not very hard."

"Modest, at a time like this?!" Natsumi suddenly shrieked, startling them all. "Ryoma, you're _valedictorian_!"

"What?"

"Seriously?"

"Oh, how brilliant!"

They all clustered around Ryoma's chair, as Natsumi handed the cover letter back to him. "See, right here, '_we are pleased to inform you that, because of his outstanding academic and athletic achievement, Echizen Ryoma has been awarded the position of valedictorian for the graduating class, Seigaku' _oh, blah blah blah," Natsumi finished, beaming. "Just like Syuusuke."

"All the smart people are in the tennis club," Yuuta clarified. "When he graduated, aniki was valedictorian 'cause he beat out Tezuka-senpai by 0.01%. Just to piss him off, I think."

"Not important," Fuji said, a wide smile on his face. "Ryoma, this is really great. The colleges will come after you any day now."

Ryoma blushed and ducked his head at their praise, feeling woefully shocked and unprepared for the third time that day. Winning Nationals and Yamada and now this…it was a bit overwhelming. He should probably call his parents, but the thought of them made his stomach lurch. It was irrational, but he felt like they would have more bad news. Just a little while longer, and then he would.

Sighing, Ryoma pushed them out of his mind and turned his attention back to the envelope. The third page held the details of the graduation ceremony and two tickets…one for each parents. Ugh. He thought of an auditorium full of friends and family, but none of it for him. Everyone would look at those seats and then at him, sympathetic and disgusting as he tried to graduate on his own…

"Front row seats," Natsumi said happily. "But only two tickets...yes, Syuusuke, you may go…if that's alright with Ryoma, of course." She looked up at Ryoma, remembering the reason for the two ticket rule. "Will your parents…"

"Probably not," he said, but the thought suddenly didn't seem to bother him. He could easily picture his second family (as he now thought of them) cheering him on. He wouldn't have to be alone after all.

"I want to go to," Yuuta announced. "Ryoma, don't let that Momoshiro hear about this or he'll come after you. And I bet that Kikumaru-senpai will throw a fit. So just me and aniki."

"But I know your mother and I wanted…" Hajime said, and sighed. "Ryoma, you know it's your decision."

That said, Natsumi caught sight of the time and stood up. "Clean up! Ryoma, wash. Syuusuke, dry. And Yuuta – no, you do not get off for passing English. I don't care, Ryoma's valedictorian and he's doing his chores."

Yuuta shot his mother a dirty look as he stomped over to the broom closet. "Why don't you give aniki my share, since he lost to Ryoma in English?"

"Lost?!" Nastumi demanded, hands on hips. "Yuuta, for the last time, GRADES ARE NOT A COMPETITION!"

***

okay. so. meelikey this chapter. even the pointless humor at the end. sorry if ryoma as valedictorian is over the top...i just wanna make him give a speech.

yamada is my villain and he pwns at it.

next chapter (the last! ay dios mio!): ryoma talks to takashima, tezuka gets to be captain + celebration, eiji makes ryoma take a romance quiz (for no reasons relevant to the plot...well...fluff, i guess), ryoma graduates from middle school (it's about time, because writing about middle schoolers getting it on kind of squicks me out).

but it's not all happy sappy!!! there will be drama for everyone.

so maybe that won't fit into one chapter (i'm 2000 words in already and have gotten 10% of the stuff i want put in). but y'know. stay tuned.

again, much love to reviewers.


	15. in which good things come in threes

um, so, NOT the last chapter. i told you guys i always underestimate...in this case i had to have another ryoma-goes-to-america arc because he DID NOT USE atobe's private jet. which has to happen, really.

but we are still relatively close to the end. i'm looking at a couple of new projects (a sequel to this, an ot5 circus au, or a fujiryo angst fic)...**please please please go to my profile and help me decide which one to work on!!!**

I-Love-Anime0 - *headdesk*. um. she died? how could i possibly forget about ryoma's trusty feline sidekick??? unfortunately i have this chapter all written but i do have to put her in somewhere...the question is how...hm...

JacksBoonie - can i just tell you how much i love your reviews? for both their appearance (pretty grammar and correct punctuation) and the fact you're connecting to my fic. love love love!

thfourteenth - yamada had a mental breakdown during the semifinals (chapter 11) and was committed to the the riveredge psychiatric center (saitou ayane, his shrink, shows up midway through chapter 12). riveredge is not really a "hospital", but i like that word.

* * *

Americans always said that good things come in threes. Ryoma had never believed it in, personally. But that Sunday night, it suddenly made a lot more sense.

Syuusuke, Yuuta and him had spent the weekend lazing around and adjusting to the fact it was _summer. _No classes, no tennis – no nothing if they didn't want to. They did want tennis, of course. So they messed around at the street courts for awhile, ran into a few people and messed around some more. And then, coming home sweaty and tired and fighting over the shower, they did not do homework or go to bed at a decent hour.

Ryoma was dozing off sometime after midnight when his cell phone shrilled near his head. At least, he thought it was his. Fuji only groaned and turned over, so Ryoma sleepily reached for it. Somewhere along the way he realized what time it was – _oh god please no – _and suddenly his heart was in his throat.

"_Um…is this Echizen?"_

"Hai," Ryoma said, relaxing somewhat. If it was someone from the hospital, they would have said so right away. But the voice sounded so familiar…

"_It's Takashima Adaichi. I need…I need to talk to you."_

He could barely think he was so relieved. Takashima…his new captain. His opponent in the semi-finals. Yamada's cousin. Nothing to do with Nanako.

"It's three in the morning," Ryoma pointed out. He felt like he was stating the obvious, but Takashima hadn't even apologized yet. "What's so important?"

"_I have to tell you something_."

Well, that was just incredibly helpful. Ryoma reluctantly untangled himself from the futon and reached for a shirt.

"This had better be good, Takashima," he muttered. "In case you missed it the first time, it's _three in the mor – "_

"Trust me," Takashima interrupted, sounding oddly relieved. "You'll want to hear this."

Ryoma sighed, but nonetheless agreed to make an appearance at the local park. He then hung up and grabbed his shoes, hesitating in the doorway as he remembered Natsumi's lecture.

"Ne…Fuji-senpai. I'm meeting up with someone."

Fuji muttered something about the time before pulling the sheet up over his head. Ryoma figured that counted as permission and turned to go, but then Fuji was now rubbing sleep out of his eyes and pulling on his shoes.

"I'm coming with," he told Ryoma. He did not sound annoyed or disapproving, only curious.

Ryoma just looked uncertainly at the other boy. "You really don't have to."

"Please," Fuji said, lowering his voice as they passed Yuuta's room. "Like I'm going to miss out on the excitement?"

"It's not going to be exciting," Ryoma said indignantly. He wasn't going to a party, for fuck's sake.

At least, he thought he wasn't. The entire thing was very strange. Ryoma had never even talked to Takashima until the semifinals, so why would the Hyotei (soon to be Seigaku) player suddenly come looking for him? What did he even want?

He contemplated the various possibilities, most of which revolved around tennis, and half-listened as Fuji went on about rapists and murderers. Um, what?

"You can't trust people who are out at three in the morning," Fuji was saying. "If you were murdered before high school, we'd lose to Rikkaidai for sure."

Ryoma stopped, staring incredulously at Fuji's innocent expression. "How – what – _why _do you think of things like that?"

Fuji just smiled and swung one leg onto his bike. "I'm just looking out for the team," he told Ryoma.

Ryoma situated himself on the back, muttering something about Fuji being murdered instead for being so goddamn_ annoying_. And then Tezuka – not Tezuka actually, but Takashima – would be forced to put Horio in Singles 2. Fuji seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing, and Ryoma thought he was definitely too tired for this.

***

They made good time to the park, on account of zero traffic (though they did have to dodge a few carloads of drunk college kids). Ryoma immediately made out Takashima by the swings. Fuji apparently did, too, because he looked a good deal less amused.

"Is that who I think it is?"

"No," Ryoma said flatly. "Definitely not."

"_Ryoma_."

"_Syuusuke_."

Even the use of Fuji's given name was not enough to dissuade the older boy. Fuji just tightened his grip on Ryoma's arm and frowned. His eyes flashed strangely under the streetlights.

"Fine," Ryoma said shortly. "It's Takashima. Yamada's cousin, if you prefer. I don't know what he wants. And _let go_."

Fuji did so immediately, shooting an apologetic look at Ryoma. "I didn't – "

"Please don't interfere," Ryoma said, not caring if he was begging. "I promise I'll tell you everything, but for now…I'd like to talk to him alone."

Fuji just looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded. "I'll wait here."

Ryoma stared disbelievingly for a second before turning and heading towards the swings. He'd been expecting a long struggle, and was caught off guard by Fuji's sudden agreement. Maybe he was waiting to yell at him on the way home. Maybe he didn't think Takashima was a threat. Maybe Fuji trusted him?

Takashima looked up when he arrived, and Ryoma squashed down his questions and said a tentative hello. He still didn't know what Takashima was up too, after all.

"Hello, Echizen," Takashima greeted. He looked at Fuji pointedly, and then back and Ryoma. "You brought a friend."

"Hn," was all Ryoma said. He took a seat on the swing next to Takashima.

"I suppose I didn't actually _tell _you to keep quiet," Takashima said drily. ""Does all of Seigaku know where you are?"

"No, it's not like that," he corrected hastily. "Fuji and me…well, we share a room and he heard the phone call and just kind of…tagged along. Well. It's like that."

Takashima appeared somewhat mollified by his explanation, but the atmosphere became marginally less tense. "You share a room?"

Ryoma squinted at the other boy, but it was too dark to determine whether Takashima was teasing him or not. "I'm staying with him while my parents are in America," he explained.

"Sure," Takashima said.

There was a long silence. Takashima began twisting himself around on the swing, casting eerie shadows on the ground in front of him.

Ryoma waited.

Finally, "I bet you're wondering why I've called you here."

Ryoma waited awhile longer, not knowing what to say without letting his annoyance show.

"I was thinking," Takashima eventually said.

"About?"

"Well…my parents say Yamada broke someone's wrist," Takashima said.

Ryoma jerked off his swing. Was this what Takashima wanted? To talk about Yamada?

He knew what it was like to have a sick family member, felt a twinge of empathy for Takashima and his predicament. But he would not and could not help.

"I'm leaving," he said coldly. "I don't want to talk about Yamada."

"Echizen, please wait!" Takashima said, sounding slightly panicked. "You should know…he said some things to me last year. I'm not sure, but I think you know what I'm talking about. What he's like. Don't you?"

Ryoma tilted his head in acknowledgment, and Takashima looked at him – not with sympathy, but with understanding.

Well, fuck. Ryoma sank back onto the swing, finding it hard to breathe.

Takashima continued, slightly calmer this time. "Yamada said I couldn't lose to you. I had to be captain, I had to show I was strong."

He remembered the quiet desperation in Takashima's eyes during the semifinals – he'd barely noticed it, being so terrified himself. "You lost," Ryoma said quietly.

"In the end it didn't matter," Takashima said. And it hadn't, because they hadn't been playing for their teams that day. They'd been playing for themselves. "Yamada was taken to the hospital before he could do anything."

Well, not before Fuji and him tried to kill each other. Ryoma sighed but said nothing, deciding that bit of information wouldn't help anything.

"Yamada says things occasionally, things that only I can understand, when my family goes to visit." Takashima stopped twisting his swing and took a deep breath. "But here's there, and I'm here."

Takashima fell silent and scuffed the ground with his feet, leaving Ryoma to contemplate all he had just learned. He felt a strange connection to Takashima, and then relief. They hadn't known they were going through it together, but they had done it.

"He made me promise not to join the team next year," Ryoma said suddenly. Not even Fuji understood this – how it seemed the only way out at the time, how terrified he'd been.

"You're breaking that promise, aren't you?" Takashima asked. He sounded admiring, envious…and almost hopeful.

Ryoma frowned, trying to figure out why. "Like you said, he's there and I'm here. And I think I know a few more things, now."

"I wish…" Takashima began, then trailed off.

"What is it?"

"Echizen...I never wanted to be captain," Takashima said eventually.

Ryoma went very, very still, realizing what that meant. Yamada was gone…was it possible? He forced himself not to shriek, knowing Fuji would come running and Takashima would clam up again. But now, if he played this carefully…

"Your Tezuka, they say he's good."

"He's very good," Ryoma said immediately. He thought of Tezuka's strength on the courts, but it wasn't just that. Lots of players were strong.

There was something about Tezuka's character that won him the respect and admiration of the other students. He knew, almost immediately, how to draw on a person's strengths, how to correct their weaknesses. Tezuka could turn a group of complete strangers into a team, and he did it fairly and without abusing his power. And this wasn't to say Tezuka didn't make mistakes – but he did own up to them, and he always learned from them.

This was the way it should have been, and it was perfect. Ryoma tried to explain this to Takashima, his mind was racing with possibilities.

Takashima looked at him with relief – yes, _relief_ – and everything fell into place. They smiled widely and got to planning (Ryoma all the while reminding himself _not to shriek_, because it was going to be the perfect surprise).

"I don't know what paperwork is in place," Takashima said thoughtfully. "I think Yamada would have done something permanent, you know, against Tezuka."

"You could always be captain officially, but let Tezuka run practices," Ryoma suggested. "Or even give the title to Fuji-senpai or someone, and let them do the same."

"Good, because I definitely don't want it," the other boy said.

Ryoma thought it was a beautiful thing to hear. They talked for a bit longer, about ways to keep Yamada from finding out and such. Just in case.

"Okay," Takashima finally said. "I'll check with the athletics director about transferring. And you make sure Tezuka is okay with it."

"That's easy enough," Ryoma said, smirking as he thought of Tezuka's reaction. "Let me know when you find something out."

"Sure," Takashima said. "And I'm sorry for calling so late."

"You're right, though," Ryoma said, suddenly realizing he didn't care about the time. "It was definitely worth it."

They said their goodbyes, and Ryoma pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Then he smiled widely and walked back over to where Fuji was waiting.

Nationals, his exam grades, and now this.

Maybe good things really did come in threes.

***

Fuji tried to count the stars.

Sometime around two hundred he realized it was pointless, but anything was better than wondering what Ryoma and Takashima were doing. He was too far away to hear what they were saying; only the rise and fall of their voices as they sorted out their mystery. For now, Ryoma sounded confused, Takashima hesitant. Fuji watched as the larger silhouette – Takashima – shrugged and looked away. The thin, dark shadow next to him stopped twisting his swing and appeared to ask another question.

But what was he asking?

Whatever they were talking about, it seemed to take forever. Fuji had probably counted that same particularly bright star three or four times, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

He listened as Ryoma's voice suddenly sharpened in annoyance, and it was an effort to stay where he was. Pushing aside his concern, Fuji forced himself to lay back down on the grass and resume his stargazing.

A streetlight flickered nearby; the noise of the crickets faded in and out. The creak of the swings and Ryoma's voice – excited, this time.

Fuji sighed and closed his eyes. He hadn't realized Ryoma and Takashima were particularly close, but it was always hard to know what Ryoma was up to. If the past month was any indication, Ryoma was well-practiced in hiding his secrets. Maybe Ryoma would tell him when he was ready.

No sooner had Fuji thought this when something unceremoniously _fell _on top of him. He cried out in surprise, eyes flying open to identify the unexpected pressure.

"Ryoma? You're finished?" Fuji managed to get out. He suddenly found it very hard to breathe, despite the fact Ryoma weighed very little. His heart wasn't working properly, either. But Ryoma looked so...so _beautiful_, when he smiled like that. Golden eyes sparkled with amusement from mere inches away…Fuji tried very, very hard not to think about closing the distance between their lips.

"I was going to keep it a surprise," Ryoma said breathlessly. "But I can't, not from you."

He smiled widely, and Fuji could feel the muscles of Ryoma's stomach tense and shift as he rolled onto the grass. Fuji missed his warmth almost immediately, despite the summer heat. _Hormones_, he told himself. _It's only hormones. Please, please get over it._

"Is he your lover, then?" Fuji asked bitterly. He wasn't quite sure why he said it, only he needed a distraction. And it hurt him, a little, that it wasn't him who made Ryoma so happy.

He felt slightly better that Ryoma's answering, "Fuji-senpai!" was appropriately indignant.

A second later, Fuji was disgusted with himself. He knew he was acting this way out of jealousy, something Ryoma probably didn't like at all. But he was frustrated. He'd been so close to getting what he wanted, only to have something else come between them yet again.

And now, he told himself for the thousandth time, it was time to take a step back. He wouldn't push Ryoma. Not when the other boy had so much to deal with already. He would wait forever, if he had too, no matter how much it hurt.

"Syuusuke?" Ryoma said, breaking into his thoughts. Fuji tried very hard not to think of how much he liked hearing Ryoma say his name.

"Didn't you hear what I said?"

"No," Fuji said bluntly.

"_Listen_, then." Ryoma didn't stay irritated for long, and Fuji could practically _feel _the excitement radiating off of him.

"What is it?"

Ryoma smirked, sitting up so he could better see Fuji's reaction. "Takashima doesn't want to be captain."

"_What?!"_

"He wants Tezuka instead."

Fuji didn't wasn't sure what to think…he sat up very, very slowly, feeling as though he were dreaming.

"You're joking."

"Am not," Ryoma retorted. "Not about this."

Tezuka as captain. It was the way it was supposed to be.

It might have been the heat of the moment, and it might have been something more, but Ryoma very suddenly pulled Fuji closer and pressed his lips against the older boy's.

It was perfect, but Fuji was too stunned to react. He wanted to reach out, pull Ryoma closer and make him _feel_ everything between them. But it was over just as quick. A split second later, he felt Ryoma's lips curve into a smile, and then the other boy pulled away.

No. He didn't want this to be a memory. He was tired of acting like nothing happened, wanted this so fucking badly.

But that was selfish, wasn't it?

Fuji only sighed and followed Ryoma out of the park, wondering how everything could feel so perfect and so wrong at the same time.

***

When his phone rang a second time, Ryoma was sure he was dreaming. _Honestly _– one freakishly early phone call was enough. Fuji, too, was less tolerant about this one, swearing loudly before pulling the pillow over his head. Ryoma touched his shoulder in apology and stumbled into the hallway. One of them, at least, should get more than two hours of sleep.

"Moshi moshi?"

"_**Hey, brat!**_"

His father sounded fairly relaxed, but Ryoma was too tired to feel relief. A little alarmed, maybe, that he couldn't understand anything else his father was rambling on about. Had his brain stopped working, maybe?

"…_**but in America…"**_

Wait.

_Duh_.

"Japanese," Ryoma finally moaned. "Too early for English."

His father laughed, and Ryoma was startled by the sound. It had been a long time…

"_**You need the practice, brat**__." _A long pause, as if he were debating whether or not to tell him something.

"**Dad?**"

"_**Well…nevermind. It's not important right now. The real reason I'm calling is to ask whether you'd like to visit. You know, before the surgery**__."_

"**That's still on then?" **He'd thought, for a moment, since he father had sounded so happy…

"_**Yes, but the doctors say it has an eighty percent success rate. Nanako could be cancer free by the weekend!"**_

In the background, Ryoma could hear his mother saying things like "_Eight percent is not close to one hundred_!" and "_Don't get his hopes up_!", but he didn't mind that bit of good news. When his father put it like that, everything seemed a lot less terrifying.

"**I want to come**_**," **_Ryoma said firmly. That decided, he told his father he would take care of his plane ticket and catch the subway train to the hospital. God knows he'd done it enough times.

And then, wondering if good things came in fours, Ryoma hung up. Cancer free by the weekend…he knew this wasn't a complete guarantee, but eighty percent was awfully good chance. It was better than the survival rate for soft tissue cancer, in any rate.

Now, what to tell the Fuji family?

***

* * *

durrrr stupid ending (just this chapter, don't worry).

**please go to my profile and vote on which fic i should work on next!!! you can also pm me or review with comments.**

p.s. thanks so much for sticking with me. love goes to every single one of my readers and reviewers.


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